ypaths  in  Dixi 


Sarah  Johnson  C 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
BAVIS 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 


DES  LIKE  SHE  RUB  *IN  ON  YORN." 


BYPATHS    IN   DIXIE 

FOLK  TALES  OF  THE  SOUTH 


BY 

SARAH  JOHNSON  COCKE 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

HARRY    STILLWELL  EDWARDS 


NEW  YORK 

E-P- BUTTON  &  COMPANY 
31  West  Twenty-Third  Street 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 


Copyright,  1911 

By  E.  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 
Reprinted,  May,  1912 


TO  MY  HUSBAND 


INTRODUCTION 

When  Thomas  Nelson  Page  began  his 
stories  of  the  old  South  in  the  early  "Eight 
ies,"  the  reading  people  of  America  sud 
denly  aroused  to  the  realization  that  a  vein 
of  virgin  gold  had  been  uncovered.  There 
was  a  rush  to  the  new  field  and  almost  every 
Southerner  who  had  a  story  to  tell  told  it, 
many  of  them  with  astonishing  dramatic 
force  and  power.  As  by  magic  a  new  depart 
ment  was  added  to  American  literature  and 
a  score  of  new  writers  won  their  way  to  fame. 
From  a  notably  backward  section,  in  point  of 

7 


INTRODUCTION 

expression,  the  South  stepped  easily,  with 
the  short  story,  into  the  front  rank  and  has 
held  her  place  ever  since.  The  field  once 
entered  was  explored  faithfully,  the  eager 
minds  of  her  sons  and  daughters  running 
through  the  Ante-Bellum,  Revolutionary 
and  Colonial  eras,  and  when  Joel  Chandler 
Harris  developed  the  "Brer  Rabbit"  stories, 
"The  Little  Boy"  and  "Uncle  Remus,"  it 
seemed  as  though  future  work  must  lie  in 
refining  for  the  ore  was  all  in  sight. 

But  there  was  one  lead  almost  entirely  for 
gotten  or  undervalued  in  the  scramble  for 
literary  wealth  and  this  lead  was  into  the 
Southern  nursery  where  the  real  black 
Mammy  reigned.  With  the  better  lights  be 
fore  us  now  we  realize  the  astonishing  fact 
that  the  very  heart  center  of  the  Southern 
civilization  had  not  been  touched. 

8 


INTRODUCTION 

Mrs.  Cocke  in  the  charming  stories  con 
tained  in  this  volume  is  the  happy  pre- 
emptor  of  the  new  find.  Every  Southerner 
old  enough  will  recognize  the  absolute  truth 
fulness  of  the  scenes  and  methods  therein 
embalmed,  and  applaud  the  faithfulness 
with  which  she  has  reproduced  that  difficult 
potency,  the  gentle,  tender,  playful,  elusive, 
young-old,  child-wise  mind  of  the  African 
nurse  in  the  white  family;  the  mind  to  which 
all  things  appeal  as  living  forces  and  all 
lives  as  speaking  intelligences. 

The  naturally  developed  mind  of  the 
African  slave  had  no  leaning  to  violence. 
The  influence  of  the  wildness  of  nature,  the 
monotones  of  forests,  fields  and  running 
waters,  the  play  of  shadows  and  the  wind 
voices  lingered  in  it  and  the  tendency  to  en 
dow  all  life  surrounding  it  with  human  or 

9 


INTRODUCTION 


god-like  powers  w?$  as  strong  in  an  humbler 
way  as  with  the  early  Greek.  But  the 
Greeks  were  warriors;  the  African  slave 
tribes,  never.  Where  one  worshipped  force, 
the  other  bowed  to  shrewdness  and  cunning 
and  by  these  lived  within  a  hostile  environ 
ment.  The  rabbit  that  survives  and  multi 
plies  was  to  the  African  slave  always  might 
ier  than  the  lion  that  fell  to  the  hunter's  gun 
or  spear,  and  the  rabbit  was  and,  to  a  large 
degree  still  is,  the  best  personification  of  the 
negro  mind  in  its  method  of  approach  and 
treatment.  Brer  Rabbit  in  the  stories  re 
told  by  Harris  is  really  the  child-  wise,  world- 
old  mind  of  Uncle  Remus,  himself  a  type. 
The  absent  from  them  of  some  of  the  moral 
laws  is  in  itself  one  proof  of  faithful  repro 
duction, 

But  m  the  nursery  we  had  by  necessity  the 

10 


INTRODUCTION 

moral  laws  grafted  on  the  African  mind  by 
master  and  mistress  through  daily  associa 
tion  and  the  singular  application  of  these  is 
within  the  memory  of  many  grown-up  South 
ern  children.  I  take  issue  with  those  who 
declare  that  the  black  Mammy  did  have 
equal  authority  in  the  punishment  of  refrac 
tory  children.  I  have  never  known  an  in 
stance  in  which  punishment  by  her  was  in 
flicted  in  blows.  A  child  might  be  dragged 
forcibly  to  its  nursery,  restrained  by  a  turned 
key  or  remorselessly  carried  away  to  solitude, 
in  arms,  but  struck,  never !  Blows  were  un 
necessary  with  the  wise-old  Mammy.  There 
were  the  cupboard  and  pantry,  the  fruit 
orchard,  the  kitchen  stove,  and  there  were 
the  birds,  beasts  and  fowls  to  be  invoked  in 
song  and  story.  Thus  were  the  children  re 
strained,  guided  and  taught,  and  doubtless 

11 


INTRODUCTION 

many  a  flower  in  our  literary  gardens  to-day 
is  but  an  old-time  seed  matured.  This  is  the 
best  side  of  the  picture.  The  seed  was  not 
always  well  chosen;  the  impression,  a  good 
one.  All  black  Mammies  were  not  good  and 
superstitions  fertilized  with  fear  were  often 
sown  in  childish  minds  never  to  be  eradi 
cated.  The  writer  to  this  day  could  not  un 
der  any  temptation  bring  himself  to  touch  a 
spider  or  sleep  in  the  dark  and  somehow 
feels  that  life  will  not  be  entirely  complete 
without  a  chance  to  even  up  with  the  female 
Senegambian  who  filled  his  mind  with  weird 
stories  Saturday  nights  and  prepared  him  for 
religious  service  Sunday  mornings. 

Mrs.  Cocke's  work  speaks  for  itself.  It  is 
a  difficult  work  presented  with  but  few  of  the 
stage  accessories.  But  I  believe  it  is  ad 
mirably  done  and  will  endure  in  a  niche  of 

12 


INTRODUCTION 

its  own.    Certain  it  is  that  those  to  whose 
memories  it  appeals  will  receive  it  gratefully. 

HARRY  STILLWELL  EDWARDS. 
Macon,  Ga., 
April  10,  1911. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE    .      .      .      .21 

II  OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT    ....     37 

III  JACK    O'LANTERN    AND    THE    GLOW 

WORM 57 

IV  Miss  RACE  Hoss  AN'  DE  FLEAS  ...     79 
V  Miss  RACE  Hoss's  PARTY     ...      .91 

VI  NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT    .      .      .      .107 

VII  How  THE  BILLY  GOAT  LOST  His  TAIL  .   121 

VIII     SHOO  FLY 139 

IX    ELECTION  DAY 153 

X  MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE       .      .      .177 

XI    BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 197 

XII  Miss  LILLY  DOVE      .      .      .      .      .      .219 

XIII  MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER     .     .     .     .  243 

XIV  MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 261 

XV    Miss  QUEEN  BEE 281 

XVI  MISTER  TALL  PINE'S  CHRISTMAS  TREE  301 

XVII  AN  AFTERWORD      .......  319 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

(From  drawings  by  Duncan  Smith.) 
"Des  like  she  rub'in  on  yorn"    .      .      .     Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"Dat  ole  roost'r  squattin'  und'r  de  baid  ain'  nuv'r 
tak'n  his  eyes  off'n  Abe" 50 

"Hep!  Hep! — Somebody  come  hope  me!"     .      .     60 

"Wid  dat  dey  all  uv  'em  lose  dey  manners  an' 
start  ter  'busin*  Brer  Bar  scand'lous"     .      .   102 

"Shoo  Fly  holl'r,  Took  out  fur  m'  legs!'  "  .      .    148 
"Bimeby  he  git  ax'd  ter  be  er  pawl  b'arer  ter  all 


206 


"Mist'r  Grab-All,  'cose  you  gwine  jine  de  Yall'r 
Jackits'  side,  ain't  yer?" 244 


The  ROOSTER 
Telephone 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

The  telephone  had  just  been  mended 
again,  and  the  man  suggested  as  he  left  that 
the  little  boy  find  another  plaything.  Phyl 
lis  indignantly  protested  that  Willis  had 
done  no  damage  to  the  instrument,  and  that 
the  frequent  defects  were  due  to  the  failure 
of  the  workman  to  put  it  in  proper  condi 
tion.  Being  thus  defended  by  so  strong  an 
ally,  Willis  lost  no  time  in  attacking  the  for 
bidden  object  as  soon  as  the  door  was  closed. 

"Let  de  ole  telerfome  erlone,  baby,"  said 

21 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Phyllis  in  a  tone  of  sympathetic  protest. 
But  the  boy  could  not  resist  such  an  oppor 
tunity.  "Dat  table  tiltin'  right  now." 
She  caught  her  breath  as  the  table  righted 
itself.  "An'  dat  telerfom'll  bus'  yo'  haid 
wide  op'n." 

"I'm  going  to  talk  to  my  papa." 

"You  gwinter  talk  ter  er  bust'd  haid, 
dat's  who  you — "  At  that  moment,  table, 
telephone,  boy  and  all  fell  to  the  floor  with 
a  bang.  "What'd  I  tell  yer?" 

Willis  answered  with  a  succession  of 
screams  that  admitted  of  no  argument  or 
consolation.  Phyllis  offered  none  until  she 
had  satisfied  herself  that  a  bumped  head  and 
a  much  frightened  little  boy  were  the  ex 
tent  of  the  damage. 

"Mammy  gwine  whup  dat  telerfome,"  she 
continued,  "an'  de  flo'  too,  caze  dey  hu't  her 

22 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

baby."  And  she  proceeded  to  execute  the 
threat. 

"Don't  whip  the  telephone — whip  the 
table !"  he  screamed. 

"Dat's  right,"  striking  the  table  with  a 
towel;  "  'twas  dat  ole  table  done  all  de  mis- 
chuf — Mammy  gwina  rub  camfer  on  dat 
telerfome's  haid  des  like  she  rub'in  on  yorn, 
an'  beg  his  pard'n  too,"  looking  for  the 
raised  place.  "Come  on  ov'r  ter  de  wind'r 
so  Mammy  kin  see  her  baby's  haid  good!" 

"I  don't  want  you  to  see  it  good!"  And 
the  wails  redoubled. 

"Lawsee!  Look  at  dat  ole  rooster  in  de 
yard!"  half  dragging  the  little  fellow  to  the 
window;  "he's  done  gone  an'  telerfome  ter 
Miss  Churchill's  rooster  'bout  you  holl'rin' 
an'  kicken'  up  so!" 

"No,  he  shan't!"  blubbered  Willis. 

23 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"He  done  done  it,  an'  he  fixin'  ter  do  hit 
ergin!" 

Another  crow  from  the  rooster:  "I  tole  yer 
so!  heah  'im?  An'  Miss  Churchill's  rooster 
done  telerfome  ov'r  ter  Miss  Coxe's  roost' r, 
an'  dey  keeps  on  telerf  omin'  ter  de  nex'  yard 
tell  all  de  roost' rs  in  dis  whole  place'll  know 
you  settin'  up  hyah  cryin'  an'  yellin'  like  you 
wus  Ma'y  Van." 

"I  don't  want  'em  to  tell,"  said  the  little 
boy,  burying  his  face  on  her  shoulder. 

"I  doan  speck  yer  does,  but  he  done  tole 
hit!"  A  fresh  burst  followed,  which  Phyllis 
strove  to  quiet.  "Hyah,  eat  dis  nice  butt'r'd 
biskit  Mammy  bin  savin'  fur  yer."  Willis 
pushed  the  bread  away.  She  coaxed,  "I 
speck  ef  you  eats  er  lit'le,  an'  thows  er  lit'le 
out  yond'r  ter  ole  man  Roost' r,  he'll  git  in 
er  good  humor  (like  all  de  men  fokes  does 

24 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

whin  dey  eats) ,  an'  he'll  telerfome  ter  Miss 
Churchill's  roost' r  dat  he  jes  foolin'  him, 
an'  Miss  Churchill's  roost' r'll  keep  de  wurd 
passin'  erlong  dat  way  tell  all  de  roost'rs'll 
know  our  ole  Shanghi  jes  pass  er  joke  off  on 
you." 

"Where's  his  telephone?"  sniffled  the  boy, 
only  partly  diverted  by  the  chicken  pecking 
up  the  crumbs  of  bread. 

"He  keep  hit  in  his  th'oat  whar  de  Lawd 
put  hit." 

"How  can  he  eat?"  Willis  turned  from 
the  window  to  gaze  into  the  old  woman's 
face. 

"Pshaw,  boy,  you  think  er  stool  an'  er  table 
wid  er  telerfome  on  hit's  in  dat  roost' r's 
th'oat?"  and  she  laughed  aloud.  Moisten 
ing  the  handkerchief  again  with  camphor, 
she  parted  the  curls  and  tenderly  pressed  the 

25 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

cloth  to  the  bumped  place.  "Nor  suhree! 
dey  ain3  no  sich  er  thing  in  dat  roost' r's  th'oat. 
Mist'r  Man  put  dat  un  in  hyar  fur  yo'  ma," 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  'phone,  "but 
de  Lawd  hook  up  dat  un  out  yond'r  in  ole 
man  Roost' r's  th'oat.  Yas,  Lawd!  He  put 
hit  in  dar  fur  Roost' rs  ter  talk  wid  an'  fur 
fokes  ter  lis'n  ter  whut  dey  talks.  You 
'member  de  uth'r  night  when  you  wus  took 
sick  in  de  night,  an'  Mammy  keep  er  tellin' 
yer  ter  stop  cryin'  'bout  de  cast'r  oil,  an' 
lis'n  ter  de  roost' rs  crowin"?  Well,  our  ole 
roost'r  wus  jes  gittin'  news  fum  Peter's 
roost'r  den." 

"Who's  Peter?"  Willis  shook  the  cam 
phor  cloth  from  his  head.  "Who's  Peter, 
Mammy?"  he  insisted. 

"Lemme  see  how  I  kin  'splain  ter  yer  who 
Peter  is,"  scratching  her  head  under  the 

26 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

bandana.  "Lemme  see — Peter  wus  er  gent'- 
mun  de  scriptur  speak  erbout  dat  trip 
hissef  up  on  de  'Bridge  er  Trufe'  an'  fell 
er  sprawlin'  flat;  an'  de  Lawd  sont  er  roost'r 
'long  'bout  dat  time  ter  pick  'im  up.  Cose 
you  know  de  roost'r  didn't  pick  'im  up  wid 
his  foots,  but  he  raise  him  up  wid  er  speeret 
de  Lawd  put  in  'im  fur  dat  'speshul  'casion. 
Oh,  I  tell  yer,  de  Lawd  talks  er  heap  er  talk 
ter  fokes  thu  fowels  an'  beastes,  but  nobody 
doan  take  no  notice  uv  'em;  dey  'pears  ter 
fergit  how  dat  fowel  hope  Peter  up,  an5 
pint'd  de  road  ter  Glory  fer  'im." 

"Mammy,  can  roosters  talk  show  nuf  ?" 
"Roosters  kin  talk  good  es  you  kin, — hits 
jes  fokes  ain'  got  nuf  speeret  in  'em  ter  heah 
whut  dey  says.  Way  back  yonder  time 
whin  hants  an'  bible  fokes  projeck'  wid  one 
nuth'r,  beastes  an'  speerets  confabs  wid 

27 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

fokes,  jes  like  me  an'  you  talkin'  now !  Yas, 
suh,  an'  fokes  lis'ns  ter  de  confab  dem  sorter 
creeters  talks  too!  Whar  you  speck  ole 
man  Balim  wud  er  bin  terday  ef  hit  hadn't 
er  bin  fur  dat  mule  er  his'n?  But  screech 
owels  an'  jay  birds  an'  er  heap  mo'  'sides 
chicken  roosters  is  got  speerets  in  'em  in 
dese  days  too.  Some  fokes  calls  'em 
hants!" 

The  door  opened  and  little  Mary  Van, 
who  had  caught  the  last  word,  tripped 
quickly  to  the  old  woman's  side  and  whis 
pered  in  suppressed  excitement:  "Where's 
the  hants,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 

"Nem'ine  whar  de  hants  is  terday.  I'm 
talkin'  'bout  de  rooster  telerfome.  Yer  see 
Peter's  rooster's  settin'  up  in  rooster  heb'n 
keepin'  his  eye  out  fur  all  de  news.  He 
nuv'r  do  go  ter  sleep  reg'lar;  sometime  at 

28 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

night  he  sorter  nod  er  lit'le,  but  he  nuv'r  do 
git  in  bed,  caze  he  f  eer'd  Mist'r  Sun  wake  up 
'fo'  he  do.  Well,  whin  he  heah  ole  man  Sun 
gap  loud,  an'  turn  hisself  ov'r  an'  scratch, 
he  know  he  fixin'  ter  git  up,  an'  dat  minit  he 
flap  his  wings  an'  telerfome  loud  es  he  kin 
'de  break  er  day  is  c-o-m-i-n' '  (imitating  the 
rooster) .  Ole  man  Diminicker  down  yonder 
on  yo'  gran'pa's  rice  plantation,  down  on  de 
aige  er  de  oshun,  is  de  fus  ter  git  de  news. 
He  stir  hissef  erbout  an'  flop  his  wings,  an' 
telerfome  loud  es  he  kin,  cde  break  er  day  is 
c-o-m-i-n'.'  De  rooster  on  de  nex'  plantation 
gits  de  wurd  an'  dey  passes  hit  on  tell  our 
ole  rooster  gits  hit  way  up  hyah  in  de  moun 
tains.  Den  our  ole  Shanghi  keeps  de  wurd 
er  gwine,  tell  ev'ry  chickin  fum  one  side  de 
country  ter  de  uth'r  knows  day  fixin'  ter 
break." 

29 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Mammy,  Mister  Rooster  wants  some 
more  biscuit." 

"I  'speck  he  do;  did  yer  ev'r  know  er  man 
dat  wus  satisfied  wid  what  wus  give  him? 
Yas,  Lawd!  dat  rooster' 11  stan'  dar  an'  peck 
vit'als  long  es  you  thows  hit  ter  'im,  eb'n 
whin  he  feel  hissef  bustin'  wide  op'n;  he'll 
stretch  his  neck  ter  git  one  mo'  bite  whilst 
he's  dyin'." 

"Who's  dyin?" 

"Nobody  ain't  dyin',  caze  dat  rooster  ain' 
gwina  git  ernuf  f  um  me  an'  you  ter  do  him  no 
harm." 

"Make  him  telephone  again." 

"Nor,  he  say  he  want  ter  pass  er  lit'le  con 
versation  wid  Sis  Hen,  an'  Miss  Pullet,  an' 
tell  'em,  mebbe  ef  dey  scratch  hard  ernuf, 
dey'll  fine  some  crum's  er  his  but'r'd 
biskit." 

30 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

"Why  didn't  Mister  Rooster  save  'em 
some?5 

"Who,  dat  rooster?"  Phyllis  shook  her 
head.  "Dem  wimmen  hens  doan  git  nuthin' 
but  whut  dey  scratches  fur,"  then  thought 
fully  she  added:  "Cose  all  roosters  ain' 
'zackly  erlike.  Dey's  er  few,  but  recoleck  I 
says  er  pow'f ul  few,  dat  saves  mos'  ev'ything 
fur  de  hens  an'  chickens;  den  der's  some  uv 
'em  dat  saves  right  smart  fur  'em;  den  der's 
er  heap  uv  'em  dat  leaves  'em  de  cram's,  but 
de  res'  er  de  rooster  men  fokes  doan  leave 
'em  nuthin',  an'  de  po'  things  hatt'r  scratch 
fur  der  sefs." 

"Less  give  Sis  Hen  and  Miss  Pullet  some 
biscuit  too,"  Mary  Van  insisted. 

"You  think  Willis's  pa  got  ter  feed  all  de 
po'  scratchin'  hens  in  dis  worl"? — well,  he 


ain't.' 


31 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Give  'em  this  piece.  It  hasn't  got  any 
butter  on  it."  Willis  handed  her  the  bread. 

"Lawsee,"  she  threw  up  the  disengaged 
hand  and  brought  it  down  softly  on  the  lit 
tle  boy's  head,  "but  ain't  you  'zackly  like  all 
de  uth'r  roosters — an'  hens  too  fur  dat  mat- 
t'r— -willin'  ter  give  'em  dat  ole  crus'  atter 
you  done  eat  all  de  sof  but'r'd  insides  out'n 
it!" 

A  lusty  crow  sounded  from  the  rooster  in 
the  yard. 

"Mammy,  what  did  Mister  Rooster  say?" 

"He  say  'dey's  er  good  little  boy  in 
h-y-a-h/  :'  trilled  Phyllis,  imitating  the  roos 
ter's  crow. 

Willis  smiled  while  his  hands  uncon 
sciously  clapped  applause.  Slipping  from 
her  lap,  he  ran  about  the  room  flapping  his 
arms  and  crowing:  "There's  a  good  little 

32 


THE  ROOSTER  TELEPHONE 

boy  in  h-e-r-e,  there's  er  good  little  boy  in 
h-e-r-e." 

Mary  Van  started  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion:  "There's  a  good  little  girl  in  h-e-r-e." 

"Hush,  Mary  Van,"  commanded  Willis; 
"you  can't  crow,  you've  got  to  cackle." 

"I  haven't  neether;  I  can  crow  just  as  good 
as  you.  Can't  I,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 

"Well,"  solemnly  answered  Phyllis,  "it 
soun'  mo'  ladylike  ter  heah  er  hen  cackle  dan 
ter  crow,  but  dem  wimmen  hens  whut  wants 
ter  heah  dersefs  crow  is  got  de  right  ter  do 
it,"  shaking  her  head  in  resignation  but  dis 
approval,  "but  I  allus  notice  dat  de  roosters 
keeps  mo'  comp'ny  wid  hens  whut  cackles, 
dan  dem  whut  crows.  G'long  now  an'  cackle 
like  er  nice  lit'le  hen." 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 


-& fr 


$ 


—* t^— 

Cack-le,  lack  -  le,  lack  -  le,  lack  -  le     ear  -  ly      in      de 


dawn -in';    Nice  fresh  aigs    for    yer  brek-fus*   ev  - 'y 


mawnin';  Cluck,  cluck.cluck,  cluck  caw  caw  caw  an'     er 


cock  -  er     doo  -  die        doo        (Cockcrows, 


.)     An'     er      cock  -   er       doo  -   die         doo. 


34 


II 

OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"Put  some  bread  crumbs  on  top  of  the 
barrel,  Willis,  and  less  see  if  he  can  peck 
it  off,"  suggested  Mary  Van  in  baby  treble. 

The  Langshan  seemed  to  understand,  for 
he  watched  Willis  with  interest  as  he 
crumbled  the  bread;  and  after  due  consid 
eration,  and  with  an  almost  human  scorn 
towards  the  hens,  measured  his  steps  to  the 
barrel,  and  stretching  his  long  neck,  re 
moved  every  crumb  from  the  top.  After 
this  he  slowly  raised  one  foot  as  though  to 
return  to  the  company  of  hens,  but  changing 
his  mind,  stood  with  the  foot  poised  in  air 
and  one  eye  apparently  fixed  upon  Phyllis. 

37 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Come  on,  chillun,  I  ain'  gwine  stay  hyah 
an'  let  dat  ole  chicken  conjur  me." 

"I  don't  want  to  go,  Mammy,  I  want  to 
stay  and  feed  the  chickens,"  protested 
Willis. 

"I  want  to  see  him  eat  off  the  barrel  some 
more,"  pleaded  Mary  Van. 

"Dat  rooster  ain't  no  chicken,  I  tell  yer, 
'tain'  nuthin'  in  dis  worl'  but  er  hant." 

This  closed  the  argument,  for  they  felt 
the  mysterious  influence  of  "hants"  that 
was  upon  Phyllis,  hence  they  followed  like 
the  meekest  of  lambs  until  she  stopped  at 
her  own  room  in  the  yard.  After  stirring 
some  embers  to  a  flickering  sort  of  blaze,  she 
looked  insinuatingly  about  her  and  broke 
into  an  excited  whisper:  "Whinsomev'r 
yer  sees  enything  right  shiny  black,  widout 
er  single  white  speck  on  hit  nowhar,  you 

38 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

kin  jes  put  hit  down  in  yo'  mine,  dafs  er 
hantl  'Tain'  no  use  ter  argufy  erbout 
it;  dem's  de  creeturs  dat  speerets  rides  whin 
dey  comes  back  ter  dis  worl'.  An'  'twas 
one  er  dem  same  black,  biggity  Langshans 
dat  ole  man  Gully's  hant  come  back  inter." 
Phyllis  had  taken  her  seat  by  this  time,  and 
the  children  had  scrambled  into  her  lap. 
"Sakes  erlive!  You  all  mos'  claw  me  ter 
death.  How  yer  'speck  erbody  ter  be  hol'in' 
two  growd  up  f  okes  like  youall  is  ?"  But  the 
children  continued  to  climb,  one  on  each 
knee.  Phyllis  put  out  her  foot  and  dragged 
a  chair  in  front  of  her.  "Hyah  stretch  yer 
foots  out  on  de  cheer,  an'  mebby  ef  yer  sets 
still,  I  kin  make  out  ter  hole  yer." 

"Mammy,  where  do  hants  stay?"  asked 
Willis. 

"Hants  is  ev'r  whars,"  she  looked  about 

39 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

her;  "dis  hyah  room  right  full  uv  'em  now." 

Mary  Van's  head  was  immediately  buried 
on  the  old  woman's  shoulder,  while  Willis's 
arms  locked  tightly  around  her  neck. 

"Yas,"  she  continued,  in  low  mysterious 
tones,  "dis  whole  wurl's  pack'd  full  uv  'em, 
but  'tain'  no  use  ter  git  skeer'd,  long  es  dey 
ain'  got  no  bisnes'  wid  you.  De  time  ter 
git  skeer'd  is  whin  you  sees  'em!"  (A 
scream  from  Mary  Van  answered  by  a  tremor 
from  Willis.)  "Some  fokes  doan  git 
skeer'd  den,  kaze  dey  knows  'tain'  no  use  ter 
git  skeer'd  er  good  speerets — hit's  jes  dese 
bad  hants  dat  does  de  damage." 

"Tell  us  about  a  good,  good  spirit, 
Mammy,"  came  in  muffled  tones  from  Mary 
Van. 

"Cause  we  don't  want  to  hear  about  bad 
old  hants,"  finished  Willis. 

40 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"How  yer  speck  me  ter  tell  yer  enything 
wid  you  chokin'  me,  an'  Ma'y  Van  standin' 
on  her  haid  on  m'  should'  r.  Set  up  like 
fokes — you  hole  dis  han'  an'  let  Ma'y  Van 
hole  dis  un,  an'  I'll  tell  yer  'bout  old  man 
Gully's  hant." 

"Ole  man  Gully  wus  de  biggites'  creetur' 
you  ev'r  seed;  he  jes  nachilly  so  biggity  he 
'fuse  ter  do  er  lick  er  wurk.  Plantin'  time 
er  harves'  time  ain'  make  no  diffunce  ter  ole 
man  Gully.  He  set  up  on  his  front  po'ch 
an'  smoke  his  pipe,  an'  read  de  newspaper 
an'  eat  same  es  one  dese  ole  buckshire  hogs, 
whilst  his  old  lady,  an'  de  chilluns,  an'  der 
ole  nigg'r  Abe,  done  all  de  wurk. 

"Ole  Miss  Gully  wus  pow'ful  sot  on  de 
ole  man;  she  think  he's  de  mos'  pow'fules' 
gran'  man  in  de  wurl.  Ef  he  say  CI  wants 
er  chaw  er  'bark'r,  de  ole  lady'd  break  her 

41 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

neck  runnin'  ter  de  fieV  ter  tell  Abe  ter  take 
de  mule  out'n  de  plow  an'  fly  ter  town  fur 
de  'bark'r.  Den  she'd  git  de  old  broke  down 
steer  an'  go  ter  plowin'  tell  Abe  come  back. 
All  dis  time  ole  man  Gully  snoozin'  on  de 
po'ch  in  de  cool.  Ef  er  rainy  spell  come 
an'  spile  de  wheat,  er  ef  fros'  come  an'  kill 
de  fruit,  ole  man  Gully  'buse  de  ole  lady 
an'  de  chilluns,  an'  say  ef  dey  had  er  done 
like  he  tole  'em  hit  nuv'r  wud  er  hap'n'd. 

"One  day  long  'bout  de  mid'le  er  de  sum'r, 
Mist'r  Gully  say  he  bleeg  ter  have  some 
possum  vit'als.  Cose  nobody  doan  eat  no 
possum  dat  time  de  ye'r,  an'  'taint'  no  time 
ter  hunt  'em  nuthe'r,  but  ole  man  Gully  says, 
'I  wants  de  possum,'  an'  dat  wus  'nuf  fur 
de  Gullys.  Abe  an'  de  chillun  stops  all  de 
wurk  on  de  farm  an'  go  possum  huntin'. 
Dey  hunts  all  day,  an'  dey  hunts  all  night 

42 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

'fo'  dey  so  much  es  come  'crost  er  single  pos 
sum  track.  Bimeby,  att'r  day  had  mos'  give 
out,  hyah  come  er  big  lean,  lank  ole  possum 
up  er  'simmon  tree  full  er  green  'simmons. 
Dey  runs  home  quick  an'  giv'  hit  ter  dey 
ma,  an'  Lawsee !  by  de  time  dat  possum  an' 
tat'rs  'gun  ter  cookin'  up  good,  de  smell  uv 
hit  jes  nachally  make  Abe  an'  dem  chilluns 
mouf  dribble  tell  dey  can'  do  er  lick  er 
wurk  fur  standin'  'roun'  de  kitchen  smellin' 
dat  possum.  Miss  Gully  had  er  plenty  er 
fat  meat  an'  sop  fur  de  chillun,  but  dat  big 
deesh  er  possum  an'  tat'rs  at  de  haid  er  de 
table  done  steal  all  der  appertite,  an'  dey 
wus  settin'  dar  turnin'  ov'r  in  der  mines 
which  one  gwine  git  de  bigges'  piece. 

"Pres'ntly  Mist'r  Gully  sorter  cla'r  his 
thoat  an'  push  his  plate  erway  an'  pull  de 
deesh  closter  ter  'im  an'  cas'  er  eye  'roun' 

43 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

de  table  sorter  mad  like,  an',  honey,  dem 
chillun  know  right  den  an'  dar  dat  dey  got 
ter  eat  fat  meat  an'  sop  fur  sup'r,  er  dee 
doan  git  no  sup'r.  De  bigges'  boy  sorter 
wipe  his  eyes  er  lit'le,  an'  de  nex'  two  chil 
lun,  dey  out  an'  sniffle.  De  ole  lady  twis' 
her  mouf  like  she  tryin'  ter  say  cdoan  spile 
yo'  pa's  sup'r.'  An'  de  ole  man  make  out  he 
ain'  heah  nuthin'  nur  see  nuthin'.  Pres'ntly 
he  look  up  wid  his  mouf  right  full  er  tat'rs 
an'  possum  an'  see  de  chillun's  eyes  feas'in' 
on  'im,  an'  der  moufs  wurkin'  like  his'n,  an' 
he  feel  sorter  'shame.  He  swaller  hard  he 
do,  like  he's  fixin'  ter  give  'em  some,  den 
he  change  his  mine  an'  say,  'G'long  in  de 
yard,  chillun, — Pappy's  sick,  let  Pappy  eat 
de  possum.'  : 

"Make   Mister   Gully   give   them   some, 
Mammy,"  said  Willis  indignantly. 

44 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"He  hatt'r  go  back  like  Niggerdemus  an" 
be  born'd  ergin  ef  he  do.  Nor  suhree,  he  eat 
up  ev'y  speck  er  dat  possum,  an'  he  sop  up 
ev'y  drap  er  dat  gravy  too;  den  he  stretch 
hissef  an'  say  he  'speck  he'll  g'long  ter  bed 
an'  try  ter  git  er  good  night's  res'.  Den  all 
de  fambly  hatt'r  g'long  ter  baid  too,  so  de 
old  man  kin  git  ter  sleep.  Bimeby,  long' 
'bout  time  de  moon  sot,  hyah  come  sump'in' 
nuth'r  knockin' — knockin' — knockin',  on 
de  wind'r  blines. 

"  -Who  dat?'  sez  ole  lady  Gully. 

"Sumpin'  nuth'r  keep  er  knockin'  an'  er 
knockin'.  Bimeby  de  old  dog  'gun  ter 
howlin',  an'  de  chickens  'gun  ter  crowin', 
an'  de  pigs  'gun  ter  squealin',  an'  de  kitchin 
do'  blow'd  wide  op'n,  an'  de  sumpin'  nuth'r 
come  tippitty,  tippitty,  tip,  'long  up  de 
hall. 

45 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"  'Who  dat?'  sez  ole  lady  Gully  ergin. 

"De  sump'in'  nuth'r  keep  er  comin'  tip- 
pitty,  tippitty,  tip,  right  'crost  de  ole  lady's 
foots  on  de  baid.  She  holl'r  an'  squall  fur 
de  ole  man  an'  de  chillun'  ter  come  kill  hit. 
De  chillun  an'  Abe  come  er  runnin'  but  de 
ole  man  ain'  stirry  er  speck. 

:  'Lawsee  mussy !     Light  de  candle  quick,' 
sez  she. 

"An'  whut  'twus  you  'speck  dem  chillun 
foun"?" 

"What,  Mammy?"  came  in  a  chorus. 

"Er  big  ole  Langshan  rooster,  jes  like  dat 
varmint  out  yond'r.  Yas  suh,  dar  hit  sot 
on  de  foot  er  de  baid,  quoilin'  an'  grumblin' 
like  fokes.  De  ole  lady  tell  Abe  ter  run 
Langshan  out  'fo'  he  wake  up  de  ole  man, 
but  Lawd  er  mussy !  Abe  'gun  ter  howlin'  : 
'Oh!  my  Lawd,  Marst'rs  daid!  Marst'rs 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

daid!  an5  dis  hyahs  his  hant!'  Sho'  nuff  de 
ole  man  wus  layin'  dar  stiff  an'  stark  daid!" 

"Is  Papa's  rooster  old  man  Gully, 
Mammy?"  whispered  Willis. 

"Hit  mout  not  be  dis  same  ole  man  Gully, 
son,  but  hit's  some  ole  man  Gully,  sho'  es 
you  born.  Well,  de  ole  lady  she  'gun  ter 
moanin'  an'  takin'  on  tur'bl',  she  did,  an' 
de  Langshan  he  settin'  up  cluckin'  an' 
quoilin'  tell  nobody  can'  heah  der  own 
ye'rs.  Dey  darsn't  ter  drive  'im  out — nor 
suh,  eb'n  de  und'r  tak'r  skeerd  ter  do  dat, 
so  'tain't  long  'fo'  dat  ole  Langshan  chick'n 
boss  ev'ythin'  on  de  farm.  Yas  suh,  I  tell 
yer,  Abe  an'  dat  ole  'oman  act  scand'lous  ter 
dat  chickin.  De  ole  lady,  she  love  hit,  but 
Abe,  he  jes  nachelly  skeer'd  er  de  hant. 
Dey  nuv'r  raise  sich  er  crap  b'fo',  'caze  dat 
rooster  scratchin'  all  ov'r  de  fiel',  an'  Abe 

47 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

say  he  know  whut  you  doin'  wheth'r  he 
lookin'  at  yer  er  not. 

"Ev'y  time  Langshan  'ud  speak  sof  ter 
de  hens,  Miss  Gully' d  holl'r  ter  Abe,  'Yer 
marst'r  want  some  fresh  wat'r,  run  quick/ 
Whinsomev'r  Langshan' d  crow,  she  run  an' 
git  him  mo'  vit'als.  Oh,  I  tell  yer  dem 
dominicker  hens  whut  kep'  comp'ny  wid  him 
sholy  got  fat  an'  lazy  eatin'  all  day  an'  doin' 
nuthin'  but  cacklin'  conversation  wid  him. 
An'  dey's  er  heap  er  fokes  in  dis  town  too, 
dat  doan  do  no  mo'  dan  dem  hens  does." 

"Did  the  children  call  Langshan  papa?" 
interrupted  Willis. 

"Nor,  darlin',  dem  boys  doan  b'leef  in 
hants,  an'  dey  tell  dey  ma  dat  de  rooster 
jes  foolin'  her,  but  she  crack  'em  crost  de 
haid  wid  de  broom  stick,  an'  dey  darsn't  say 
so  no  mo'. 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"Long  'bout  Chris' mus  time  Miss  Gully 
wus  took  down  wid  de  rumatiz.  She  can't 
lif  er  finger,  let  lone  git  up,  so  she  tell  Abe 
ter  bring  de  ole  man  up  in  de  house.  Yas 
suh,  dat  rooster  strut  hissef  all  ov'r  dat 
house.  He  peck  at  hissef  in  de  lookin' 
glass,  an'  he  light  up  on  de  pianny  in  de 
parler;  he  fly  up  on  de  baid  an'  peck  Miss 
Gully's  nose,  an'  she  tell  Abe  de  ole  Man's 
lovin'  her.  Hit  sho'  wus  cur' us  'bout  dat 
rooster,  caze  ev'y  time  de  doct'r  come,  he 
hop  up  on  de  foot  er  de  baid  an'  cluck,  an' 
cluck  tell  de  doct'r  git  up  an'  go.  One  day 
de  doct'r  tell  Miss  Gully  she  gwine  die. 
She  sorter  cry  'bout  hit  er  spell,  den  she 
sont  fur  de  ole  man's  hant.  Abe  he  go  an' 
shoo  de  roost' r  in  de  room,  but  he  can't  make 
him  fly  on  de  baid.  Abe  he  tiptoe  an'  wave 
his  han's  sof  like  b'hime  him,  but  de  rooster 

49 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

run  und'r  de  baid  an'  cackle,  an'  cluck,  an' 
make  so  much  fuss  dat  de  boys  wanter  run 
him  out,  but  Miss  Gully  say  he  talkin'  ter 
her.  She  answer  back  ter  him,  cYas,  suh, 
— dat's  right, — yas,  suh,  I'm  gwine  do  jes 
like  you  says/  She  keep  er  gwine  on  dat 
erway  er  long  time,  tell  bimeby  she  tell  Abe 
ter  go  git  lawyer  Clark  ter  make  her  er 
will.  She  say  de  ole  man  say  she  got  ter 
give  him  all  de  money,  dat  de  chillun'll 
spen'  hit  ef  she  don't.  De  lawyer  argufy 
wid  her  'bout  doin'  sich  er  trick  es  dat,  but 
he  thowin'  'way  his  bref,  caze  by  de  time  he 
git  thu'  wid  dat  speech,  Miss  Gully  wus 
done  daid." 

The  children  took  a  long  breath.  "Did 
the  hant  kill  her,  Mammy?" 

"Hit  conjur  her  so  she  dunno  whut  she 
doin',  jes  like  dat  ole  chickin  try  ter  do  me." 

50 


DAT  OLE  ROOST'R  SQUATTIN'  UND'R  DE  BAID  AIN*  NUV'R  TAK'N 
HIS  EYES  OFF'N  ABE." 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"Did  the  children  cry  when  their  mama 
died?"  came  tremulously  from  Mary  Van. 

"Dey  car'ied  on  right  sharply,  caze  she  wus 
er  good  ole  'ooman  'fo'  she  got  conjured,  an' 
she  wus  jes  doin'  what  she  think  wus  right 
den;  but  der  cryin'  wusn't  nuthin'  ter  dat 
nigg'r  Abe  howlin'  an'  moanin'  ov'r  in  de 
cornd'r.  Yer  see  dat  ole  roost'r  squattin' 
und'r  de  baid  ain'  nuv'r  tak'n  his  eyes  off'n 
Abe,  an'  Abe  want  'im  ter  g'long  an'  keep 
comp'ny  wid  somebody  else  sides  him.  So 
he  holler',  'Mistis,  fur  de  Lawd's  sake  make 
Marst'r  g'long  wid  yer.'  Den  de  ole  rooster 
start  ter  cluckin'  an'  fussin',  an'  hit  'pear 
dat  he  fixin'  ter  go  to'ards  Abe.  Abe  he 
start  ter  hol'rin':  £Nor  suh,  nor  suh,  I 
doan  want  yer  ter  g'way  fum  hyah!  I 
wants  Mistis  ter  come  back  in  one  dese  big 
Langshan  hens,  so  you  won't  git  so  lonesome, 

51 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dat's  whut  I  wants.'  De  rooster  keep  on  er 
cacklin'  an'  er  fixin'  ter  fly  out'n  de  wind'r, 
but  Abe  think  he  gwine  jump  on  him,  an'  he 
yell,  Tlease  suh,  doan  hu't  Abe,  Mars  ter, 
caze  whin  I  dies,  I'm  gwine  come  back  in  one 
dese  fine  gooses,  an'  wait  on  yer  plum  tell 
jedgement.' '' 

"Did  old  Langshan  get  all  the  money, 
Mammy?"  the  financial  side  appealing  to 
Willis. 

"He  git  much  uv  hit  es  hit  take  ter  buy 
pizen  ter  make  er  conjur  pill  ter  kill  him 
wid." 

"Can  you  kill  a  hant?"  he  asked  incredu 
lously. 

"Yer  can't  kill  'em  'zackly,  but  yer  kin 
run  'em  inter  sum  uth'r  creet'r,  dat  is  ef  de 
conjur  pill  wurk." 

"Mammy,"  began  both  children  at  once. 
52 


OLD  MAN  GULLY'S  HANT 

"  Hole  on, — jes  one  ax  at  er  time — let  de 
lady  have  de  f  us  time,  caze  you'se  Mammy's 
man.  Now  den,  ax  yer  sayso,  Ma'y  Van." 

"Did  Miss  Gully  turn  to  a  hen?" 

"She  done  bin  eat  up  long  ergo  ef  she  did," 
then  turning  to  Willis,  "Whut's  Mammy's 
man  got  ter  ax?" 

"I  want  to  know  how  Abe  turned  to  a 
goose." 

"Abe  didn't  hatt'r  turn  ter  no  goose 
ertall,  caze  de  Lawd  done  alreddy  born'd 
him  er  goose. — Come  on  now,  an'  less  play 
in  de  yard." 


Ill 


JACK  O'  LANTERN  AND  THE  GLOW 
WORM 


JACK  O5  LANTERN  AND  THE  GLOW 
WORM 

"Mammy,  you  cut  m'  Jack-my-Lantern 
for  me."  Willis  was  struggling  to  carve 
features  in  a  huge  pumpkin. 

"I  tole  yer  ter  let  Zeek  make  dat  foolish 
lookin'  thing,"  grumbled  Phyllis,  faithfully 
striving  however  to  cut  the  pumpkin  ac 
cording  to  Willis's  instructions. 

"Make  Mary  Van  one  too,"  he  demanded. 

"I  got  one,"  and  Mary  Van  blew  into  the 
kitchen  door  with  a  gust  of  chilly  wind, 
"and  Papa's  made  a  pretty  one  for  you  too, 
Willis — ain't  you  glad?" 

"Whut  you  all  think  dem  Jacky-Lanterns 

57 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

is  enyhow?"  Phyllis  asked  with  an  air  of 
mystery. 

"They  are — "  Willis  hesitated,  "they  are 
— funny  pretties/'  he  finished. 

"Dey  ain'  nuthin'  funny  'bout  er  show 
nuff  Jack-my-Lantern,  I  kin  tell  yer  dat  fur 
sartin  an'  sho !"  Her  face  assumed  a  grave 
expression,  "and — take  keer,  boy,  Kitty'll 
spill  hot  greese  on  yer/'  making  a  dive  at 
Willis  in  time  to  save  the  cook  from  stum 
bling.  "Come  on  out  er  dis  hyah  kitchen, — 
'tain'  no  place  fur  chillun  no  how." 

"Mammy,  less  go  over  to  Mary  Van's  and 
get  m'  Jack-my-Lantern,"  coaxed  Willis,  as 
Phyllis  directed  the  way  toward  the  nursery. 

"Nor,  yer  doan  need  hit  tell  dark.  Jack- 
my-Lanterns  doan  come  out  'cep'in'  at  night. 
Leastways  f  okes  doan  see  em." 

"Jack-my-Lanterns  ain't  anything  but  big 

58 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

old  pumpkins,  are  they,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 
Mary  Van  asked  to  reassure  herself. 

"Dat  dey  is,"  the  old  nurse's  expression 
grew  fearful  and  cunning.  "Dey's  de  wuss 
sorter  hants — dat's  whut  dey  is." 

This  ended  the  contention  of  going  to 
Mary  Van's. 

"You  memb'rs,"  she  began  after  an  omi 
nous  silence,  "ole  man  Gully's  hant,  doan 
yer?" 

"Old  Langshan  rooster,  Mammy?"  Willis 
whispered. 

"Dat's  de  ve'y  hant — yas  suh — ole  lady 
Gully  ain't  skeercely  in  her  grave  'fo'  dat 
rooster  hant  start  ter  gwine  down  in  de 
cellar — an'  peckin'  'roun'  like  he  huntin'  fur 
sumthin'. 

"Abe  tell  de  boys  he  seen  de  ole  man  take 
er  bag  er  gole  down  dar  onct,  an'  he  'speck 

59 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

old  Langshan  know  whar  he  berry  hit — but 
howsumev'r  dat  is — one  thing  wus  sho'— 
dat  rooster  peck  in  one  cornder  er  dat  celler, 
tell  dem  boys  pis'n  him." 

The  children  moved  closer  to  Phyllis. 
"Mammy,  did  he  come  back  in  another 
rooster?" 

"No,  ma'm,  he  didn't, — he  say  he  nuv'r 
speck  ter  come  back  in  no  mo'  creeturs  ter 
git  pis'n'd  ergin.  T)e  nex'  time  I  comes 
back,'  sez  he,  'hit's  gwine  be  in  sumthin' 
nuth'r  fokes  can't  projick  none  er  der 
dev'ment  wid.'  Ahah3 — an'  yer  knows  whut 
dat  is,  doan  yer?" 

Both  little  heads  shook  a  trembling  nega 
tive. 

"Well,  hit's  er  Jack-my-lantern!"  said 
Phyllis,  and  at  her  solemn  statement  the 
children  looked  aghast. 

60 


HEP  !      HEP  !   —  SOMEBODY  COME  HOPE  ME  ! 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

"Yas,  ma'm, — an  yas,  suh,"  she  bowed  to 
each  in  turn,  "he  come  back  straight  es  he 
kin  float  hissef  ter  de  swamp  down  yond'r 
on  yo'  granpa's  rice  plantation."  She 
waited  for  this  to  be  entirely  absorbed  by  her 
eager  little  listeners,  then  added:  "I  seen 
'em  m'sef  winkin',  an'  blinkin'  all  erbout 
dar,"  suiting  facial  contortions  to  her 
words. 

"One  day  Miss  Gully's  bigges'  boy  went 
down  in  de  cell'r  ter  git  some  tat'rs  fur 
dinn'r,  an'  fus'  thing  yer  know  he  start  ter 
yellin'  'Hep!  hep! — Somebody  come  hope 
me!' 

"Abe  an'  de  uth'r  boys  wint  down  dar,  an' 
seed  de  boy  layin'  flat  on  de  floo'  whar  de 
hant  thow'd  him— 

"Mammy,  lemme  get  in  your  lap,"  begged 
Mary  Van,  while  Willis  jumped  on  one  of 

61 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

her  knees.  Mary  Van  followed  suit,  and 
before  Phyllis  could  reply  they  had  cuddled 
upon  her,  almost  taking  her  breath. 

"Sakes  erlive!  you  all  gittin'  'way  wid  me 
wusser'n  dem  hants  done  de  Gully  boys." 

"Go  on,  Mammy,"  they  both  urged. 

"Well,  Abe  an'  de  uth'r  two  boys  fotch 
him  up  sta'rs  an'  lay  him  on  his  ma's  baid. 
Dey  lef  him  er  minute  ter  go  git  some 
cam'fer,  an'  when  dey  come  back,  dar  sot 
er  crow  on  de  haid  er  de  baid  tellin'  de  boy : 

"  'Go  foll'r  de  light, 
Don'  feer  ter  fight, 
An'  yer'll  git  er  bag  er  gole ! ' 

"He  git  up,  he  do,  an'  go  out  de  do',  but 
hit's  s'  dark  he  tell  de  crow  he  can't  see  how 
ter  git  erlong.  Jes  den  Jacky-Lantern 
flash  up  an'  say: 

62 


JACK  O5  LANTERN 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money.' 

"De  boy  run  up  ter  de  light,  but  hit  go  out 
jes  es  he  git  clost  up  ter  hit.  He  say:  'Hole 
on  dar,  whar  yer  takin'  me  ?'  Jacky-Lantern 

say 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"Johnny  Squinch  Owel  fly  b'fo'  him  an' 
say: 

"  'Unch-oo,  unch-oo, 

Doanchu  go,  doanchu  go!' 

"Boy  tell  him,  'Git  out'n  m'  way,  Johnny, 
I'm  atter  money — I  ain'  got  no  time  ter  talk 
ter  you.' 

"Johnny,  he  keep  er  foll'iin'  de  boy  an' 

holl'r: 

"  'Unch-oo,  unch-oo, 

Doanchu  go,  doanchu  go/ 

63 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Jacky-Lantern  light  up  ergin,  an'  de  boy 
start  up  runnin'.  Til  git  yer  dis  time/  he 
say;  but  Jacky-Lantern  drap  down  in  de 
groun'  ev'y  time  he  git  enywhars  near  'bouts 
him,  an'  Willie  Wisp  pop  up  way  ov'r  de 
uth'r  side." 

"Who  was  Willie  Wisp,  Mammy?" 

"He  wus  er  nuth'r  hant  dat  tak'n  up  wid 
ole  man  Gully.  When  de  boy  see  Jacky- 
Lantern  pop  up  hyah,  an'  Willie  Wisp  pop 
up  dar, — he  jump  fus'  dis  erway,  an'  dat 
erway  tell — " 

"What  was  the  boy's  name?"  asked  Willis. 

"Lemme  see,  I  b'leef  dat  boy  name  Jack." 

"No,  Mammy,  Jacky-Lantern's  name, 
Jack,"  Willis  reminded  her. 

"Dat's  so."  She  dropped  her  head  on  one 
side:  "Dat  Gully  boy's  name,  Bill— Bill 
Gully's  his  name.  Dem  uth'r  two  boys  an' 

64 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

Abe  takes  atter  Bill  an'  holl'r  ter  him  ter 
let  dem  hants  erlone,  but  Bill  tell  'em  ter 
'ten'  ter  der  own  biznes,  dat  he  atter  gole. 

"Dey  holl'r  back,  'Dey's  er  plenty  er  gole 
in  de  cell'r — come  on  back  an'  hope  dig  hit 
out.' 

"  (I  doan  want  no  lit'le  gole  you  fines  at 
home/  sez  Bill. 

"Abe  he  holl'r  back  ergin,  Tlease,  suh, 
come  back,  dar's  er  heap  mo'  hyah  dan  you 
kin  git  dar.' 

"But  he  so  tie'd  runnin'  fus'  atter  Jacky- 
Lantern,  an'  den  atter  Willie  Wispa  dat  he 
hatt'r  stop  an'  blow  er  lit'le.  Abe  an'  de 
boys  dey  kotch  up  wid  him,  an'  dey  tussels 
consid'rble  tryin'  ter  git  him  back,  but  dat 
boy  Bill  skuffle  scand'lus.  He  thow  ev'y 
one  uv  'em  flat  in  de  mud. 

"  'You  all  ain'  nuthin'  but  er  passel  er 

65 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

gooses/  he  say,  'talkin'  'bout  huntin'  gole  at 
home.  Don't  yer  know  yer  got  ter  fight  an' 
scratch,  an'  run,  an'  keep  er  gwine  tell  yer 
gits  ter  whar  dese  hyah  gol'  lights  lives 
—den  yer  fines  de  bag  er  gole?' 

'To'  de  boys  an'  Abe  kin  git  dersefs  up 
of'n  de  groun'  whar  Bill  knock  'em,  Bill  wus 
gwine  like  er  race  hoss  atter  Jacky-Lantern. 
Bimeby  de  groun'  'gun  ter  git  pow'ful  sof, 
an'  Bill,  his  foots  'gun  ter  sink  down  tur'bul. 
He  can't  go  fas'  no  mo', — I  tell  yer  de  truf e, 
hit  wus  all  Bill  cud  do  ter  pull  hisse'f  er- 
long." 

"What  was  the  matter  with  Bill,  Mammy 
Phyllis'?"  whispered  Mary  Van. 

"He  in  de  swamp,  honey,  whar  de  groun' 
wus  mirey, — an'  hit  wus  full  er  hants  too. 
Bill  feel  er  hot  flash  pass  him,  an'  er  Jacky- 
Lantern' d  pop  up — hyah  come  ernuth'r  hot 

66 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

sumthin  nuth'r,  an'  Willie  Wisp  'u'd  pop  up 
right  'long  side  er  him. 

"Bill  say,  cls  dis  whar  yer  lives?' 

"Jacky  say: 

"  'Foll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"Johnny  Squinch  hoot  up  in  de  tree: 
'Unch-oo,  Doanchu  go.' 

"Brer  Bull  Frog  holl'r:  'Go  back,  go 
back.' 

"Ole  lady  Gully's  hant  come  up  in  er  big 
ball  er  light,  an'  she  moan  ter  Bill : 

"  Toll'r  yer  track, 

Ef  yer  wanter  git  back/ 

"Bill  say:    'Who  is  you?' 
"Miss  Gully  say : 

"  Tm  yo'  Mar  - 
Doan  go  so  far/ 

67 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Bill  say,  1  done  start  atter  dis  gole,  an' 
I'm  gwine  see  de  race  out.' 

"Jacky-Lantern  an'  Willie  Wisp,  an'  all 
de  res'  er  de  bad  Hants  down  in  de  swamp 
jes  er  poppin'  up  ev'y  which  er  way,  an'  all 
uv  'em  holl'r: 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money !' 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"Bill  he  dunno  which  way  ter  go,  so  he  ax 
'em:    'Which  one  got  de  money  sho 
But  dey  keeps  er  bobbin'  up  : 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"  Toll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 


68 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

tell  Bill  say  ter  hissef :  Tm  gwine  foll'r 
de  one  look  like  he  got  de  mostes.'  He  take 
er  step  dis  er  way,  an5  he  sink  down  so  fur 
dat  he  pull,  an'  pull,  an'  pull,  tell  he  pull 
his  shoe  off.  Some  mo'  Jackys  calls  him  way 
ov'ryond'r: 

"  'Foll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"  'Foll'r  me,  sonny, 
I  got  de  money/ 

"So  he  try  ter  take  er  long  step  ov'r  ter 
dem,  but  he  sink  so  fur  dis  time  dat  he  pull, 
an'  pull,  an'  pull,  an'  pull,  but  he  can'  git  his 
foots  up. 

"His  ma's  hant  ris'  up  den,  an'  bus*  out 
cryin' : 

"  'Yer  done  los'  yer  sole, 
An'  yer  ain'  got  de  golY 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"  'Yer  done  los'  yer  sole, 
An'  yer  ain'  got  de  golV 

"Bill  he  keep  tryin'  ter  pull  hisse'f  up,  but 
he  done  sink  down  ter  his  gallus  straps." 

"Please,  Mam,  pull  him  out,  p-1-e-a-s-e," 
pleaded  the  little  girl. 

"Doan  yer  worry  yose'f,  his  ma's  wid  dat 
boy." 

"Yes,  but  she's  only  a  spirit." 

"Doan  keer  ef  she  is  er  hant,  she's  his  ma, 
— an'  de  Lawd  nuv'r  do  let  dat  part  die  out 
in  no  'ooman.  Well,  dar  wus  Bill  jes  er 
sinkin'  an'  er  sinkin' — " 

"But  he  wusn't  any  deeper  than  his  waist, 
you  said,  Mammy,"  begged  Mary  Van. 

"He  bleeg  ter  be  er  lit'le  deep'r  by  dis  time, 
but  his  ma  wus  cryin'  an'  beggin'  de  Lawd 
so  hard  ter  spar'  de  boy  an'  give  him  er-nuth'r 
chanct,  dat  er  big  thorney  bush  grow  up  quick 

70 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

'long  side  er  Bill  an'  retch  out  hits  arms, 
— an'  de  thorney  part  stick  right  thu  Bill's 
close,  so  Jacky-Lantern,  an'  Willie  Wisp 
an'  de  res'  er  de  bad  hants  can't  pull  'im  no 
fur'r.  Bill  'gun  ter  see  dat  he  wus  hangin' 
ov'r  torment,  an'  dat  wus  de  place  de  gole 
he  bin  runnin'  atter  stay,  so  he  rech  out  an' 
grab  de  thorney  bush,  he  did,  an'  de  blood 
come  tricklin'  down  on  his  han's  whar  de 
briers  stick  him,  but  his  ma's  speeret  come 
out  on  de  thorney  bush  in  er  big,  big,  big 
ole  glow  wurm,  an'  she  say : 

"  'Hole  fas', 
Hit  can'  las'/ 

"  'Hole  fas', 
Hit  can'  las'.' 

"He  notice  den  dat  all  de  uth'r  lights 
poppin'   up  an'   poppin'   out,   an'   hoppin' 

71 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

erbout,  but  de  glow  wurm's  light  wus 
studdy." 

"Did  Bill  know  it  was  his  mama?" 
Bill's  safety  was  uppermost  in  Mary  Van's 
mind  now. 

"He  doan  'zackly  know  hit,  but  he  think 
he  do,  caze  he  know  nobody  ain'  gwine  stick 
ter  him  atter  dey's  in  heb'n  cep'n  his  ma. 
Darfo'  he  keep  his  eye  on  de  glow  wurm,  he 
do.  He  know  dat  studdy  light  wus  his 
ma's  speeret." 

"Don't  let  his  hands  bleed  any  more, 
Mammy,"  she  begged. 

"Doan  yer  git  too  skeer'd  er  de  blood  uv 
'pentence,  chile.  Bill  done  sin,  an'  he  got 
ter  be  born'd  ergin,  thu  suf'in  an'  mis'ry. 
Howsumev'r  he  foU'rin'  de  studdy  light  er 
dat  glow  wurm,  so  'tain'  long  'fo'  she  show 
him  er  tree  on  t'oth'r  side  dat  wus  smooth  an' 

72 


JACK  0'  LANTERN 

strong,  an'  Bill  tu'n  loose  er  de  bush  an5 
grab  holt  er  de  tree — Bob  Wind  he  come  an' 
hope  de  tree  ter  lif '  Bill  up, — an'  Bob  give 
one  er  ole  man  Harricane's  blows  dat  take 
Bill  clean  out'n  de  mirey  clay,  an'  Ian'  him 
on  de  rock." 

"Was  he  clear  out  of  the  swamp?" 
"And  where  was  his  mama?"  both  chil 
dren  pressed  their  questions. 

"He  wusn't  clean  out,  but  he  wus  clost  on 
ter  de  aige — all  he  need  is  er  lit'le  mo'  uv 
his  ma's  studdy  light  ter  show  him  de  way 
home, — an'  he  got  hit  too,  fur  dar  she  wus 
by  him  on  de  rock,  whin  he  come  thu.  She 
crawl  'long  mouty  slow  b'fo'  him,  caze  Bill 
wus  in  er  pow'ful  bad  fiix,  but  her  light  ain' 
flick' r,  an'  hit  keep  bright  an'  studdy,  an' 
bimeby  atter  er  long  time  she  Ian'  him  at 
home  safe  an'  soun'." 

73 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"How  could  it  take  long?"  Willis  was 
keeping  tab  on  the  time. 

"Yer  see,  baby,  yer  kin  nachelly  fly  wid 
Bob  Wind  when  yer's  on  de  road  ter  Satan 
wid  Jacky-Lantern,  an'  Willie  Wisp  lightin' 
hit  up  so  purty  fur  yer;  but  whin  yer  starts 
back,  an5  de  road's  dark — an5  yer  got  jes  one 
lit'le  light,  hit  take  er  long  time  ter  fine  yer 
way  erbout." 

"Was  Abe  and  the  boys  waiting  for  Bill?" 
Mary  Van  desired  to  see  the  home  reunited. 

"Dey  wus  waitin',  but  dey  wusn't  settin5 
down  waitin5.  Abe  an'  dem  boys  had  done 
dig  dat  gole  out'n  de  cell'r  an'  buy  'em  er 
passel  er  mules,  an'  cows,  an'  chick' ns,  an' 
bilt  'em  er  fine  house,  an'  raise  sich  craps, 
dat  de  ole  farm  tu'n  out  ter  be  de  bigges' 
plantation  in  dem  parts." 

"Did  Bill  get  home?" 

74 


JACK  O'  LANTERN 

"Ter  be  sho',  son,  ain't  I  done  tole  yer  de 
glow  wurm  gwine  p'int  out  de  road  fur  him?" 
"Did  they  give  Bill  some  money,  too?" 
"Cose  dey  did,  gal,  der  ma's  speeret  light 
up  der  h'arts  so  bright  dat  dey  ain'  see  no 
rees'n  ter  keep  all  de  money  jes'  'caze  dey 
stays  at  home  an'  fines  hit. — Sut'nly  dey  give 
Bill  his  sheer." 

"Did  the  glow  worm  stay  with  them?" 
"Dey  ma's  speeret  stay's  dar,  but  de  glow 
wurm  hatt'r  g'long  back  ter  de  swamp  ter 
hope  de  res'  er  de  po'  sinn'rs  dat  gits  tang'led 
up  runnin'  atter  Jacky-Lanterns  an'  Willie 
Wispes." 


IV 
MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 


MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 

"Come  on  hyah,  baby!  Let  de  dog  er 
loose — sleepy  time  done  come  ter  us." 

"No,  Mammy,  I  ain't  goin'  ter  sleepy!" 

"Who  say  you  ain't?" 

"I  say  so,  'caus'  my  papa  says  I'm  er  man ! 
My  papa  don't  go  ter  sleepy  in  the  day 
time!" 

"Lordee!  I  bet  he  do  if  he  gits  er  chanct. 
Dat  dog  gwine  bite  yer  if  you  don't  quit 
foolin'  wid  es  tail." 

"Bray  ain't  goin'  ter  bite  me — Mammy, 
you  tie  the  bow." 

"Tie  er  ribbin  bow  on  er  dog's  tail?" 

"Oomhoo!" 

79 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Ooom  hoo?  Is  dat  de  way  you  speaks 
tcr  yo'  ole  Mammy?" 

"I  saysa  yes,  ma'm." 

"Well,  gimme  de  ribbin! — but  what  you 
wanter  tie  er  bow  on  er  dog's  tail  fur? 
Folks  puts  bows  'round  dey  necks." 

"But  I  want  ter  fool  Bray,  and  make  him 
think  this  is  his  head." 

"You'se  er  sight,  you  is!  Who  on  earth 
but  you'd  er  thought  er  tryin'  ter  make  er 
dog  think  es  tail  was  es  head !  Nev'  mind ! 
Yer  bett'r  take  keer  dat  he  don't  play  er 
wusser  joke  on  you,  like  ole  Sis'  Cow,  an' 
Sis'  Dog,  an'  Sis'  Sow,  an'  Sis'  Cat  done  ter 
ole  Miss  Race  Hoss  when  she  try  ter  pass  off 
one  er  her  jokes  on  dem!" 

"Did  they  hurt  Miss  Race  Hoss, 
Mammy?" 

"Dey  mos'  driv  her  crazy,  dat's  what  dey 
80 


MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 

done! — but  you  wait  tell  I  ties  dis  heah 
bow,  an'  den  we  gwinter  slip  off  up-stairs 
'fo'  Bray  wake  up  an'  ketch  us." 

"All  right,  Mammy." 

Most  elaborately  Phyllis  tied  and  patted 
the  soiled  blue  bow. 

"Now,  den,  Bray's  sho'  gwine  hatt'r 
strain  'es  mind  ter  fine  out  which  een'  his 
head  stays  on !  Jump  up  hyah  in  Mammy's 
arms,  so  we  kin  run  fas'  'fo'  Bray  wake  up!" 

Quite  out  of  breath,  Mammy  reached  the 
room  up-stairs.  Little  Willis,  interested 
only  in  the  flight  from  Bray,  did  not  realize 
the  ruse  she  had  played  upon  him  until  he 
found  himself  in  his  little  crib  bed.  Open 
rebellion  began. 

"Boo  hoo,  boo  hoo!" 

"Ssho  boy!  You  gwine  wake  Bray,  an' 
den  he's  jes  es  sho'  es  sho'  kin  be  ter  play 

81 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dat  trick  on  us  dat  his  Gran'  Mammy  Dog 
play'd  on  ole  Miss  Race  Hoss,"  remonstra 
ted  Phyllis. 

"Boo  hoo,  boo  hoo,  I  don't  wanter — " 

"Hush,  now!  Lawsee!  I  b'lieve  I  heahs 
er  race  hoss  comin'  down  de  road  now! 
You  hears  him,  don't  yer?" 

"Oom  hoo!"  sobbed  the  little  boy. 

"Oom  hoo?" 

"Yes,ma'm!" 

"Well,  dat's  de  way  ole  Miss  Race  Hoss 
soun'  when  she  come  er  single-footin'  down 
de  road,  an'  seed  ole  Sis'  Cow  layin'  ov'r 
in  de  cornder  er  de  pastur'  chewin'  her  cud, 
an'  talkin'  ter  ole  Sis'  Sow,  an'  Sis'  Dog, 
an'  Sis'  Cat.  She  look'  in  de  pastur',  she 
do,  an'  see  Sis'  Cow's  little  calf  jes'  er 
jumpin'  an'  er  kickin'  out  his  b'hime  legs; 
so  she  holler  she  do : 

82 


MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 

"  'Law,  Sis'  Cow,  whatchu  doin'  wid  my 
little  colt  ov'r  dar? 

"Sis'  Cow  say,  'Law,  Miss  Race  Hoss,  you 
sholy  ain't  callin'  my  po'  little  calf  yo' 
colt? 

"Miss  Race  Hoss  say,  'Sis'  Cow  I  sho'  is 
s'prised  you  can't  tell  er  calf  frum  one  er 
my  fine  colts!  Jes'  look  how  he's  prancin'. 
I'm  gwine  jump  ov'r  dis  fence,  an'  prance 
'long  side  him  an'  let  you  see  if  we  ain't 
'zackly  like.' 

"Wid  dat,  she  tuck  er  sorter  back-run- 
nin'  start,  an'  jump  blip!  right  in  de  middle 
er  de  pastur'.  Sis'  Cow's  little  calf  was  so 
proud  when  Miss  Race  Hoss  'gun  ter  caper 
her  fancy  steps  'long  side  him,  dat  he  clean 
furgit  'es  ma,  an'  try  ter  fancy  step  'long 
side  er  Miss  Race  Hoss  down  de  middle  er 
de  field. 

83 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

'To'  Sis'  Cow  beller'  an'  beller'  fur  Mister 
Cow  ter  come  an'  run  Miss  Race  Hoss  off, 
but  law,  Mister  Cow  bizzy  tendin'  ter  'es 
bizness  an'  he  don't  hear  ole  Sis'  Cow.  Jes' 
den,  Sis'  Dog  an'  Sis'  Sow  an'  Sis'  Cat  sorter 
whisper  'mongst  deysefs.  Pres'ntly  dey 
all  jumps  up  an'  starts  ter  shakin'  deyse'fs 
whensomever  Miss  Race  Hoss  git  clost  ter 
'em.  Fus'  thing  yer  knows,  Miss  Race 
Hoss  stop'  her  fancy  steppin'  an'  holler, 
'How  'pon  earth  come  dese  fleas  ter  git  on  top 
er  me?'  She  jump'  an'  she  roll',  she  jump' 
an'  she  roll',  an'  I  speck  she'd  bin  er  jumpin' 
an'  er  rollin'  plum  tell  now,  ef  dem  fleas 
teeth  had  er  bin  strong  nuf  ter  er  bit  thu 
Miss  Race  Hosses  hide,  but  yer  see  wid  all 
de  bitin'  dey  bin  doin',  dar  wasn't  one  uv 
'em  dat  got  er  good  clinch  on  Miss  Race 
Hoss.  So  Sis'  Sow's  fleas  say  dey  gwine 


MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 

back  home  ter  vit'als  dey  wus  rais'd  on,  an' 
Sis'  Dog's  fleas  say  dey  wus  gwine  back 
whar  de  meat  wus  tender,  an'  Sis'  Cat's 
fleas  say  dey  don't  see  no  use  tryin'  ter  git 
er  livin'  off'n  hoss  hide  when  dar  wus  plenty 
er  kitten  meat  dat  would  melt  in  yo'  mouf . 
So  wid  dat,  all  uv  de  fleas  give  er  jump,  an' 
lands  back  on  Sis'  Sow  an'  Sis'  Dog  an' 
Sis'  Cat;  an',  honey,  dem  fleas  ain't  no  sooner 
jumpt,  dan  Miss  Race  Hoss  jump,  too. 
She  give  er  back-runnin'  start  an'  wus  ov'r 
dat  fence  'fo'  you  know'd  it;  an'  bless  yo' 
heart,  she  come  mouty  nigh  ter  jumpin'  on 
her  own  little  colt  dat  had  done  foller'  her 
onbeknownst.  De  colt  nev'r  seed  es  ma 
mirate  an'  car'y  on  so  b'fo',  an'  he  got  so 
occipi'd  watchin'  her  dat  he  plum  fergit 
ter  mention  he  was  dar.  Howsomev'r, 
when  Miss  Race  Hoss  come  er  flyin'  ov'r 

85 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dat  fence  she  come  so  close  ter  de  little  colt 
dat  whil'st  he  was  er  gittin'  outen  de  way, 
he  trip5  es  own  sef  an'  fell  er  sprawlin'  flat. 
"Po'  little  colt  commenc'  ter  whinnyin' 
an'  cryin',  an'  his  ma  was  so  sorry  an'  mis- 
erbul  dat  she  tuck  him  in  her  arms  an'  'gun 
ter  pattin'  an'  er  singin'  ter  him  jes'  like  dis : 

"  'Mama  luvs  de  baby, 
Papa  luvs  de  baby, 
Ev'ybody  luvs  de  baby, 
Hush  yo'  bye,  doan  you  cry, 
Go  ter  sleepy  lill'e  baby. 

De  lilTe  calfee  an'  de  lill'e  colt,  too, 
Dey  keeps  mighty  close  ter  dey  mama, 
Caze  Jack  Frost's  out  er  huntin'  all  erbout, 
Ter  ketch  lill'e  chillun  when  dey  holler. 
Hush  yo'  bye,  doan  you  cry, 
Go  ter  sleepy  HU'e  baby. 

Mama  luvs  de  baby, 
Papa  luvs  de  baby, 
Ev'ybody  luvs  de  baby. 

86 


MISS  RACE  HOSS  AN'  DE  FLEAS 

All  dem  horses  in  dat  fiel' 
B'longs  ter  you  lill'e  baby : 
Dapple,  gray,  de  white  an'  de  bay, 
An'  all  de  pretty  lill'e  ponies. 
Hush  yo'  bye,  doan  you  cry, 
Go  ter  sleepy  lill'e  baby. 

Mama  luvs  de  baby, 
Papa  luvs  de  baby, 
Ev'ybody  luvs  de  baby/  ' 

Softer  and  softer  grew  the  crooning,  until 
the  little  boy  dropped  into  peaceful  slum 
ber. 

"Now,  den,  de  ole  man's  drapt  off  at  las'. 
Bless  de  chile,  he  is  er  man  sho'  nuf ;  an'  de 
way  he  prove  he  gwine  be  jes'  like  de  res' 
er  de  men  folks,  is  de  way  he  lets  de  wimmen 
fool  him;  eb'n  er  old  black  'ooman  like  I 


is!" 


s 


^- 

Mam-ma  luvs  de     ba  -  by,    Pa  -  pa  luvs  de     ba  -  by, 

87 


Fine. 


Ev    -    'y    bod  -  y   luvs   de     ba    -    by:     Hush  yo'    bye 


doan  you     cry;      Go     ter  sleep  -  y       li  -  'le     ba    -   by 


m 


Mam-ma  luvs  de      ba  -  by,    Pa  -  pa  luvs   de     ba   -  by, 


m 


P 


Ev     -     'y        bod    -     y       luvs       de         ba   -   by.      De 


li'le..      ca  -  fee,      an'    de       li'le..     colt       too,     Dey 

K N_ 


keeps  might  -  y        close         ter    dey    mam  -     ma,    Caze 


N        I 


•5 *- 


Jack  Frost's  out        er     hunt  -  in*     all      er  -  bout,    Ter 


J-^Uf-t 


ketch    li-'le    chil-len  when  dey  hoi  -  1'r.    Hush  yo'  bye, 

D.  C.& 


* 


m 


doan  you  cry,      Go      ter  sleep -y      11-  'le     ba    -    by. 


V 

MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

Willis  drank  his  soup  noisily,  insisted 
upon  eating  with  his  knife,  upset  a  glass 
of  milk  on  Jane's  new  Easter  dress,  and  in 
the  end  was  carried  from  the  table  kicking 
and  screaming. 

Mammy's  attempts  to  pacify  him  proved 
futile,  and  fearing  the  wrath  of  his  father, 
she  gathered  up  the  squirming,  screaming 
boy  as  best  she  could  and  ran  to  her  own 
room  in  the  rear.  Letting  him  fall  upon 
the  bed,  she  breathlessly  dropped  into  a 
chair,  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  her 
face  with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 

"Now,  den,  jes'  holl'r  an'  kick,  tell  you 
hollers  an'  kicks  yo'se'f  plum  out." 

91 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

This  the  boy  did  at  a  length  and  with  a 
violence  unbelievable,  Mammy  sitting  all 
the  while  at  the  side  of  the  bed  to  see  that 
he  did  not  roll  off  and  humming  broken 
pieces  of  song  as  though  perfectly  uncon 
cerned.  When  the  screaming  had  spent 
itself,  and  naught  remained  of  it  but  long 
hard  sniffles,  Mammy  began  mumbling, 
"Well,  bless  de  Lawd,  I  bin  thinkin'  I  wus 
nussin'  er  fuss  class  qual'ty  chile  all  dis 
time,  an'  hyah  it  tu'n  out  I  bin  wor'in' 
m'se'f  wid  one  er  Sis'  Sow's  mis'r'ble  little 
pigs." 

A  low  wail  was  the  only  answer  to  this 
thrust. 

"Hit's  de  trufe!  An'  I  done  make  up 
m'  mine  I  ain't  gwine  do  it  no  longer. 
What's  de  use  er  me  stayin'  hyah,  nussin'  er 
pig  chile,  when  I  kin  g'long  an'  nuss  er  fuss 

92 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

class  qual'ty  chile  like  Mary  Van,  an'  I'm 
gwine  do  it,  too!" 

One  little  arm  reached  out  to  the  old 
woman : 

"Mammy!" 

But  she  continued:  "M'ye'rs  is  broke 
wid  all  dat  pig  holl'rin'!  I  don't  speck  I 
ev'r  is  ter  heah  no  mo',  neither!" 

Sobbing  and  sniffling,  the  little  boy 
crawled  to  her  lap,  and  tried  to  look  into 
her  ear.  She  continued  obstinately:  "Can't 
heah  er  thing!  I  knows  you'se  in  m'  lap, 
but  les'n  I  seed  yo'  face  I  cudn't  tell  ef  you 
wus  laffin'  er  cryin'." 

Both  arms  went  tight  around  her  neck  : 

"Mammy,  I  won't  be  bad  no  mo' !" 

Pretending  to  weep,  Mammy  said  pathet 
ically  : 

"I  wush  I  cud  heah!    I  speck  Miss  Lucy'll 

93 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

tu'n  me  out  now,  'caze  m'ye'rs  won't  hear 
no  mo'r  an'  den  I'll  hatt'r  go  off  ter  de  woods 
an'  die  by  m'se'f  'mongst  de  beastes;  an'  I 
speck  dey'll  kill  me,  'caze  I  can't  heah  'em 
comin' !  Boo  hoo !" 

At  this,  Willis's  suffering  became  so  in 
tense  she  feared  to  continue  the  punishment 
and  so  began  another  strain. 

"But  dey  tells  me  dat  ef  folks  whut's  bin 
bad  prays  ter  de  Lawd  an'  kisses  de  place 
whut  hurts,  dat  some  time  de  Lawd  makes 
de  place  well  ergin ;  dat  is, — ef  de  bad  chile 
promise  he  ain'  gwine  be  bad  no  mo'." 

Instantly  the  little  swollen  lips  moistened 
with  blubbers,  covered  first  one  black  ear 
and  then  the  other. 

"An'  dey  got  ter  pray,  too,"  suggested 
Mammy. 

"Now  I  lay  me !"  came  in  broken  sniffles. 

94 


MISS  RACE  ROSS'S  PARTY 

Suddenly  throwing  up  her  hands,  a  look 
of  rapture  on  her  face,  Mammy  shouted  : 

"Lawsee !  I  b'lieve  I  heahs  you  snifflin' !" 
She  listened  carefully:  "I  does!  Tell 
Mammy  you  loves  her  an'  lemme  see  ef  I  kin 
heah  you." 

"I  loves — "  began  the  little  boy,  nestling 
in  her  arms. 

c  'Cose  I  kin  heah,  but  I  tell  yer  de  Lawd 
ain'  gwine  ter  notice  yo'  pray'rs  no  mo',  ef 
you  keeps  letting  de  'pig  chile  parf  er  you 
come  out." 

"I  don't  want  ter  be  er  pig  chile!" 

"I  don't  speck  you  does,  but  you  sho'  'pear 
terday  like  you  come  straight  up  f um  de  pig 
sty!  Don't  you  'member  dat  party  Miss 
Race  Hoss  giv'  an'  'vite  Sis'  Sow  an'  her  chil- 
luns  ter  come  ter  it?" 

Willis  shook  his  head. 

95 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Look  er  hear  boy,  who  you  shakin'  dat 
head  at?5 

"I  says,  no,  ma'm!" 

"You'se  late  in  de  day  sayin'  it,  too. 
Enyhow,  Miss  Race  Hoss  giv'  er  party  an' 
'vite  Sis'  Cat  an'  her  chilluns,  an'  Sis'  Dog 
an'  her  chilluns,  an'  Sis'  Cow  an'  de  lit'le 
calf;  an'  she  sorter  pass  conversation  wid 
Mist'r  Race  Hoss  'bout  'vitin'  Sis'  Sow  an' 
her  fambly.  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  say  long  as 
he's  in  pol' ticks  an'  want  ter  git  'lected  ergin 
ter  be  ruler  er  de  beastes,  he  speck  she  bett'r 
'vite  Sis'  Sow.  So  Miss  Race  Hoss  say  all 
right !  An'  she  done  it. 

"Oh,  I  tell  you  Miss  Race  Hoss  fix  up  er 
fine  party!  She  had  mouses  fur  de  cat 
fambly,  an'  dey  wus  nice,  fine,  live  mouses 
too,  an'  bones  an'  meat  fur  de  Dog  fambly, 
an'  hot  bran  mash  mixt  wid  cott'n  seed 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

meal  fur  Sis'  Cow's  fambly,  an'  she  had 
buttermilk  in  er  big  trauff  fur  Sis'  Sow  an' 
her  chilluns.  An'  she  pile  apples,  an'  car 
rots,  an'  ev'y  sort  er  thing  in  de  middle  er 
de  table.  An'  she  had  salt  fur  dem  dat 
wants  salt,  an'  sugar  fur  dem  whut  mus' 
have  sugar. 

"Well,  de  fuss  uns  ter  come  wus  Sis'  Cat 
an'  her  chilluns.  Sis'  Cat  had  done  wash' 
her  kittens'  faces  jes'  es  clean  an'  put  dem 
mitt'ns  on  'em  dat  yo'  ma  read  ter  us  erbout. 

"Den  hyah  come  Sis'  Dog  an'  her  fambly. 
Dey  all  had  bows  'roun'  der  necks  an'  look 
mouty  gran'!  Sis'  Cow  an'  de  calf  wus 
curri'd  slick  es  glass,  an'  I  tell  yer  Miss 
Race  Hoss  wus  glad  her  an'  de  little  colt 
had  dem  ribbins  tied  up  in  der  manes,  'caze 
Sis'  Cow  was  sho'  pressin'  'em  in  slickness. 

"Ole  Brer  Bar  he  come   down   fum  de 

97 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

woods  ter  'tend  ter  de  dinin'  room  an'  see 
dat  ev'ybody  git  de  right  vit'als. 

"Atter  dey  bin  waitin'  fer  er  spell,  Brer 
Bar  'nounce  dat  soon  es  Sis'  Sow  come  de 
party  wus  ready. 

"All  uv  'em  want  ter  go  ter  eatin'  dat 
minit,  'caze  dem  cats  smell  dem  mouses,  an' 
dem  dogs  moufs  jes'  er  dreanin'  wid  de  smell 
er  dat  meat;  but  dey  sets  dar  like  dey  done 
f ergit  all  erbout  vit'als,  'caze  dese  heah  wus 
qual'ty  animals  wid  manners,  I  tell  yer. 

"Pres'ntly  Miss  Race  Hoss  low  dat  she  see 
Sis'  Sow  comin'  now,  an'  she  seen  her,  too, 
fur  hyah  come  Sis'  Sow  an'  all  her  chilluns 
er  runnin'  ev'y  which  er  way,  wid  mud  all 
ov'r  dey  backs.  Some  uv  'em  wus  wet  an' 
some  uv  'em  wus  dry.  Dey  come  er  run 
nin'  an'  none  uv  'em  ain't  nuv'r  stop  ter  pass 
howdy  wid  Miss  Race  Hoss,  'caze  dey 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

smell  de  vit'als,  an'  dey  ain't  got  nuff  man 
ners  ter  hide  de  pig  in  'em.  Dey  come  er 
rootin'  an'  er  gruntin'  all  'roun'  b'hime  folks 
an'  b'fo'  fokes,  tell  dey  pass  too  close  ter 
Sis'  Cat's  chilluns,  fur  dey  sorter  raise  up 
dey  backs  an'  bushy  out  dey  tails,  an'  raise 
up  dey  paws,  but  Sis'  Cat  she  sorter  growl 
sof  an'  dey  passify  deysefs  an'  sets  still. 
Sis'  Dog's  chilluns  wanter  snap  es  dey  come 
er  trompin'  on  top  er  dey  foots,  but  dey 
'strains  deysefs  'caze  dey  wus  fuss  class 
qual'ty  dogs. 

"Brer  Bar  see  Sis'  Sow  rootin'  an'  gruntin' 
her  way  ter  de  table,  so  he  'nounce  fur  'em 
all  ter  come  in  ter  de  party.  He  sorter  push 
Sis'  Sow  an'  her  chilluns  off  ter  de  butter 
milk  trauff.  De  uther  folks  dey  sets  down 
at  de  table  an'  acts  like  fuss  class  folks  does, 
but  Sis'  Sow  an'  her  pig  chilluns  ain't  seed 

99 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dey  vit'als  'fo'  all  uv  'em  try  ter  git  in  de 
trauff  wid  dey  foots.  Dey  pushes  an' 
tromps  'pon  one  'nuther,  an'  squeals,  an'  eats 
loud  like  you  done  terday!" 

The  brown  eyes  fell  and  an  humble  little 
voice  said,  "I  ain't  gointer  do  it  no  mo'." 

"De  Lawd  knows  I'm  glad  to  hear  it. 
Well,  Sis'  Sow  an'  dem,  quoil  an'  make  so 
much  fuss,  tell  de  uther  fokes  can't  pass  no 
conversation  er  tall,  tell  pres'ntly  Sis'  Sow 
an'  de  pigs  eat  up  all  dey  vit'als  an'  dey 
come  gruntin'  an'  er  rootin'  fur  mo'.  Dey 
spy  dem  apples  an'  things  on  de  table,  an' 
'fo'  yer  knows  it,  dem  pig  chillun  wus  'pon 
top  er  dat  table. 

"Wid  dat,  Brer  Bar  git  so  mad  he  slap  'em 
off  fas'  es  dey  gits  on;  but  de  fust  un  he 
slap'  off  fell  right  in  'mongst  Sis'  Cat's  kit 
tens.  Whoopee!  Dem  kittin  chillun  fer- 

100 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

gits  all  'bout  manners  an'  'gins  scratchin'  an' 
fightin'  same  es  pigs.  Sis'  Dog's  chilluns 
jes'  nachelly  cudn't  stan'  no  sich  er  strain 
on  dey  manners  es  dat,  an'  'fo'  yer  kin  say 
'Jack  Robson,'  de  kittins  an'  de  puppies  an' 
de  pigs  wus  er  squealin',  an'  er  barkin',  an' 
er  spittin',  an'  er  growlin',  tell  you  can't  hear 
yo'  ye'rs.  Sis'  Sow  start  ter  runnin'  down 
de  road  wid  de  pigs  atter  her,  an'  de  puppies 
atter  de  pigs,  an'  de  kittins  atter  de  puppies. 
Wid  dat  de  little  calf  git  'cited  an'  he  start 
ter  kickin'  out  his  b'hime  legs,  which  happen 
ter  hit  de  lit'le  colt,  an'  he  r'ar'  hissef  back 
an'  come  down  on  de  calf,  an'  bofe  uv  'em 
take  out  down  de  road  er  holl'rin'  an'  er 
kickin',  an'  er  twistin'  deysefs  like  you 
done  terday!" 

Again  the  brown  eyes  fell. 

"Atter  all  de  chilluns  done  loss  dey  man- 
101 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

ners,  dey  ma's  sets  up  lookin'  at  one  nuther 
like  dey  loss  dey  las'  frien'.  Pres'ntly  Miss 
Race  Hoss  say  hit's  all  her  fault,  'caze  she 
had  no  biznes  ter  mix  up  qual'ty  folks  wid 
pig  folks. 

"Wid  dat  Sis'  Cow  an'  Sis'  Cat  an'  Sis' 
Dog  speak  up.  'No,  Miss  Race  Hoss,  'tain't 
yo'  fault,  an'  it  'tain't  our  chilluns  fault,  it's 
jes'  dem  pigs'  fault.'  Jes'  den  ole  Brer  Bar 
ris'  up  an'  clap  his  han's  an'  laff  like  he 
splittin'  his  sides.  Miss  Race  Hoss  look 
'stonish'  dat  he  act  dat  er  way,  an'  she  ax  him 
whut  ail  him.  Soon  es  Brer  Bar  kin  stop 
laffin',  he  say:  'Youall  thinks  yo'  chilluns 
ain't  got  no  pig  in  'em,  does  you4?'  den  he 
start  ter  laffin'  ergin.  Miss  Race  Hoss  r'ar' 
back  herse'f  an'  say,  "Brer  Bar,  you  done 
fergit  whar  'bouts  you'se  at;  'member 
you'se  'mongst  fuss  class  qual'ty !'  Den  dey 

102 


« 


"  WID  DAT  DEY  ALL  UV  *EM  LOSE  DEY  MANNERS  AN*  START  TER 
'BUSIN  '  BER  BAR  SCAND'LOUS 


MISS  RACE  HOSS'S  PARTY 

all  throws  dey  heads  back  an5  tu'ns  dey 
noses  up  at  po'  Brer  Bar.  Brer  Bar  git  mad 
den  an'  he  stop  laffin'  an'  say,  cYo'  chilluns 
ain't  de  onliest  uns  got  pig  in  'em !  All  you- 
all  got  it,  too.  Ev'ybody  got  it.  Some 
folks  got  mo'  en  uthers  got;  all  dis  hyah 
mann'rs  you'se  braggin'  'bout  ain't  nuthin' 
but  er  kiv'r  ter  hide  de  pig  dat's  in  yer. 
Keep  er  way  fum  de  pigs  ef  you  don't  wan  ter 
show  yo'  pig  side.' 

"Wid  dat  dey  all  uv  'em  lose  dey  manners 
an'  start  ter  'busin'  Brer  Bar  scand'lous. 
Sis'  Cow  beller'  out  her  madness,  an'  Sis' 
Cat  mew  an'  spit  out  her'n,  an'  Sis'  Dog 
growl  an'  bark  out  her'n,  an'  Miss  Race  Hoss 
jes'  r'ar'  up  an'  foam  at  de  mouf. 

"Brer  Bar  look  like  he  fixin'  ter  hu't  sum- 
body,  den  he  amble  off  t'ards  de  woods  he 
did,  an'  den  tu'n  hissef  'roun'  an'  hoU'r,  'I 

103 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

tole  yer  so !'  Jes'  lis'n  ter  all  er  youall  right 
now,  actin'  wusser  en  dem  pigs  in  de  butter 
milk  trauff ." 

"An'  Brer  Bar  speak  de  trufe!  An'  he 
speak  de  trufe  when  he  say  all  us  got  er  pig 
side,  too." 

"My  mama  ain't!" 

Phyllis  hesitated :  "No,  I  don't  speck  she 
is;  dat  is,  ef  she  is,  her  'ligion  done  wash  it 
all  out,  'caze  yo'  ma  think'  mo'  'bout  ev'y- 
body  else  'fo'  she  do  herse'f, — but  you  got 
er  pig  side,  an'  ef  you  don't  take  keer  hit' 11 
grow  ter  be  er  hog  side,  too,  dat  you  nuv'r 
is  ter  git  miff  manners  ter  hide  neither. 
Come  on  an'  go  finish  yo'  dinner,  boy,  an'  let 
Mammy  eat  her'n." 


104 


VI 
NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

Phyllis  was  dozing  on  the  top  step  of  the 
side  veranda  while  little  Willis,  in  the 
gravel  walk  below,  was  playing  with  a 
Noah's  Ark.  The  animals  were  in  grand 
parade  when  one  of  them  met  with  an  acci 
dent.  Willis  thought  a  moment,  then, 
taking  the  loose  ends  of  a  string  tied  to  one 
of  the  fuzzy  toys,  he  climbed  the  steps  to 
where  Phyllis  had  just  fallen  in  a  peaceful 
nod  against  the  pillar.  He  clumsily 
slipped  the  string  between  her  open  lips, 
and,  with  a  slap  and  sputter,  Mammy 
opened  her  eyes. 

"Name  er  de  Lawd,  boy,  whut  is  you 
tryin'  ter  do?" 

107 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"I  want  you  ter  be  er  billy  goat." 

"You  wants  sumthin'  I  nuv'r  is  ter  be. 
I'm  willin'  ter  be  er  hoss  an'  on  er  pinch  I'll 
be  er  mule,  but  dey  ain't  no  time  I'm  willin' 
ter  be  no  ole  billy  goat  fur  nobody." 

"Please,  Mammy,"  laying  a  hand  on  her 
cheek  in  an  effort  to  pull  her  face  to  him, 
"m'  billy  goat's  got  his  legs  broke,  an'  I 
won't  have  any  goat  if  you  don't  be  one." 

"How  come  you  don't  tu'n  one  dem  dogs 
in  er  goat?"  suggested  Phyllis,  her  face  ob 
stinately  averted. 

"They  haven't  got  any  horns!" 

"I  ain't  got  no  horns  neether,"  asserted 
Mammy. 

"But  you  can  make  some,"  persisted 
Willis. 

"You  think  I'm  gwineter  pull  dis  ban- 
danner  off  an'  roll  my  ole  gray  wool  inter 

108 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

horns,  does  you?"  chuckled  the  old  nurse. 

Willis  nodded. 

"Well,  you  foolin'  yo'se'f,  dat's  all  I  got 
ter  say."  But  when  Willis  began  to  fret, 
Mammy  relented:  "I  tell  yer  dat  dog 
won't  know  'esse'f  fum  er  goat,  ef  you  calls 
him  goat;  'caze  I  knows  erbout  er  dog  an'  er 
goat  dat  can't  tell  t'other  fum  which." 

"No  you  don't,"  objected  the  tormentor 
tugging  at  her  arm. 

"I  tells  you  I  does,  'caze  one  day  Mister 
Man  went  out  ter  hunt  er  dog  an'  er  goat 
fur  his  lit'le  boy.  He  see  Sis'  Dog  an'  her 
f  ambly  on  de  side  er  de  road,  an'  dey  'pears 
ter  be  in  er  mouty  commotion  'bout 
sump'n.  Mister  Man  holler'  an'  ax  whut 
ail  'em.  Sis'  Dog  say  she  foun'  one  er  Sis' 
Nanny  Goat's  chilluns  layin'  out  in  de 
pastur'  des  er  blatin'  all  by  'esse'f,  an'  she 

109 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dunno  whut  ter  do  wid  it.  Mister  Man 
say,  Til  take  keer  uv  it,  an'  I'd  like  moutily 
ter  take  keer  er  one  er  yo'  chilluns,  too.' 
Sis'  Dog  tell  him  'surtiny,'  dat  it  'ud  make 
her  turr'bul  proud  fur  one  er  her  chilluns 
ter  live  up  at  his  fine  house.  So  Mister 
Man  lif  tes  de  goat  an'  de  puppy  up  on  Miss 
Race  Hosses  back  'long  side  er  him  an'  flies 
'crost  de  country  ter  his  house.  When 
Mister  Man's  ole  lady  see  him,  she  th'ow  up 
her  han's  an'  say,  'Name  er  de  Lawd,  Mister 
Man,  whut  you  specks  ter  do  wid  dat  goat?' 
Mister  Man  say:  'Oh!  I'll  des  put  it  out 
hyah  wid  de  puppy  an'  raise  'em  bofe  ter- 
gether.'  " 

"Wasn't  the  little  boy  glad  his  papa  kept 
the  goat?"  interrupted  Willis. 

"Is  you  glad  I'm  tellin'  dis  tale?" 

"Yes'm." 

no 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

"Dat's  'zackly  de  way  Mister  Man's  boy 
feel,  'ceptin'  mo'  so.  Dey  puts  er  pan  er 
milk  out  in  de  cow  house,  an5  bofe  uv  'em 
eats  outen  it  tergether.  When  dey  gits  big 
ernuf  ter  eat  like  sho'  nuf  beastes,  de  little 
boy  puts  goat  feed  fur  de  goat  an'  dog 
vit'als  fur  de  dog." 

"What's  the  dog's  name?" 

"He  wus  jes'  name  Collie  Dog  when  he 
live  wid  his  mammy,  but  when  he  start  ter 
livin'  wid  white  fokes,  de  lit'le  boy  name 
'im  Ned." 

"An'  what's  the  goat's  name?" 

"He  ain't  got  nuthin'  ter  do  wid  dat,  'caze 
de  Lawd  done  already  name  him  Billy. 
Well,  when  Billy  Goat  look'  at  his  feed,  an' 
Ned  Dog  look'  at  his  vit'als,  dey  bofe  feels 
mouty  proud,  'ceptin'  dey  don't  seem  ter 
make  out  howcum  it  ain't  mix'd  tergether;  so 

ill 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Billy  he  take  an'  run  over  an5  try  ter  eat 
bones  an'  meat,  an'  Ned  he  run  ter  Billy's 
box  an'  try  ter  eat  hay  an'  bran  mash;  an' 
dey  keep  on  try  in'  ter  eat  one  nuthers  vit'als 
long  es  dey  live'.  Pres'ntly,  Billy  grow  so 
big  dat  he  'gun  ter  grazin'  roun'  'mongst  de 
flow'rs  an'  grass,  an'  I  speck  he  run  in  de 
house  sumtimes,  too,  but  it  'pears  dat  flow'r 
buds  tas'e  mo'  nicer  ter  'im  dan  grass;  so 
Mister  Man's  old  lady  'gun  ter  quoil  an' 
mirate  an'  tell  him,  'You  des  got  ter  tetter 
dat  goat!'" 

"I  don't  want  'im  ter  tetter  Billy!"  ex 
claimed  the  child,  and  his  brown  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 

"Pshaw,  boy,  er  tetter  ain't  nuthin'  ter 
hu't  nobody!  It's  des  er  rope  you  ties 
roun'  de  horns  er  beastes  an'  de  uther  een' 
you  ties  ter  er  stob  in  de  groun'!  Well, 

112 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

when  Billy  find  'esse'f  tied  ter  dat  rope  so 
he  can't  go  in  de  house  and  can't  go  in  de 
flow'r  gyarden,  he  des  cry  an'  cry.  Ned  Dog 
try  ter  stay  wid  'im  much  es  he  kin;  but 
when  he  see  Mister  Man  an'  de  little  boy 
settin'  off  down  de  road  on  Miss  Race  Hoss 
an'  de  little  colt,  his  foots  des  nachelly 
go  bookety!  bookety!  b'hime  'im  'd'out 
knowin'  it.  His  heart  tell  him  ter  g'long 
back  an'  stay  wid  Billy,  but  his  foots  say 
dey  ain't  er  gwine  do  no  sich  er  thing. 
'Cose  he  cudn't  hep  'esse'f  ef  his  foots  'fuse 
ter  take  'im  home.  Atter  while,  when  he 
gits  back,  Billy  done  cry  'esse'f  plum  sick. 
He  say  he  don't  see  howcum  he  tied  up  an' 
Ned  Dog  ain't;  an'  Ned  Dog  say  he  don't 
neether;  'caze  you  see  Ned  think  Billy's  er 
dog  an'  Billy  think  'esse'f  er  dog,  too. 
Dat's  de  way  wid  some  fokes.  Heap  uv  'em 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

thinks  dey's  big  dogs  when  dey  ain't  nuthin' 
but  er  old  goat!"  Mammy  concluded  with 
emphasis. 

"Go  on,  Mammy,"  demanded  Willis, 
pushing  her  hand  off  of  the  curl  she  was 
trying  to  straighten. 

"Ain't  dat  ernuf  ?  I  done  prove'  you  kin 
make  er  goat  outen  dat  Noah's  ark  dog." 

"Yes,  but  I  want  the  little  boy  ter  let  Billy 
loose." 

"Well,  his  ma'll  give  him  er  spankin'  ef 
he  do.  Dat  boy  darsent  ter  tech  dat  tetter. 
Long  'bout  atter  dinner  time,  Ned  he  git 
so  miserbul  lis'nin'  ter  Billy  hollerin'  dat  he 
'gun  ter  gnaw  an'  pull  at  de  stob;  den  he 
try  ter  scratch  it  up;  but  it  was  too  deep; 
so  he  take  an'  go  ter  pullin'  at  de  rope  ergin' ; 
an'  bimeby  de  knot  come  off.  He  ketch 
de  knot  in  his  teef  and  den  he  tell  Billy  ter 

114 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

g'long  whar  he's  er  mind  ter.  Billy  kick  up 
es  b'hime  legs  an'  fly  down  de  road  wid 
Ned  Dog  b'hime  him  holdin'  on  ter  de  rope. 
Billy  he  eat  all  'long  de  road,  an'  Ned  Dog 
foll'r  'long  b'hime  wharsomever  Billy  choose 
ter  go,  'caze  yer  see  Ned  feel  de  'sponsibility 
er  loosin'  Billy.  Atter  while,  Ned  Dog  beg 
Billy  ter  come  on  an'  go  home !  He  tell  'im 
his  jaws  nigh  'bout  broke  clampin'  on  dat 
knot.  But  Billy  say  he  ain't  er  gwine,  tell 
he  eat  'esse'f  plum  full  er  dem  flow'r  buds. 
No,  Lawd,  Billy  ain't  thinkin'  bout  Ned  long 
es  he  kin  joy  es  own  sef.  Ned  he  'gun  ter 
howl  an'  bark  wid  de  jaw  ache,  but  Billy 
too  full  er  'esse'f  ter  notice  Ned.  Yes, 
Lawd,  Billy  des  like  some  fokes  I  knows, 


too." 


"Me,    Mammy?"    demanded    the    intent 
little  boy. 

1*5 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Yes,  I  speck  de  cap  fit  you  er  heap  er 
times,  but  you  wusn't  de  pusson  I  had  m' 
mine  on  des  den,"  replied  Mammy  com 
placently.  "Billy  keep  er  gwine  on,  an' 
Ned  des  er  draggin'  'esse'f  erlong  wid  de  jaw 
ache  tell  bimeby,  dey  comes  ter  de  old 
log  fence  'roun'  de  pastur'.  Billy  he  try 
ter  jump  de  fence,  but  Ned  he  crawl  thu; 
but  yer  see  Billy  can't  jump  high  ernuf 
'caze  Ned's  pullin'  de  rope  on  de  uther  side, 
so  Billy  gits  tangled  up  on  one  er  de  rails. 
Ned  he  run  back  when  he  see  Billy's  hangin' ; 
but  he  gits  back  thu  er  diffunt  hole  ergin, 
an5  dat  twistes  de  rope  so  tight  dat  Billy 
gits  in  er  mouty  bad  fix  'fo'  you  knows  it. 
He  'gun  ter  blate  an'  holl'r  an'  Ned  drop' 
de  rope  an'  'gun  ter  howl;  but  dat  nuv'r  done 
no  good,  an'  it  nuv'r  do,  do  no  good  in  dis 
woel." 

116 


NED  DOG  AND  BILLY  GOAT 

"What,  Mammy?' 

"Jes'  ter  stan'  up  an'  holler  an'  cry  like 
you  does  sometimes!  You  got  ter  go  ter 
work  an'  do  sumthin'  ef  you  'specks  ter 
entangle  yo'se'f  in  dis  woel',  an'  dat's  whut 
come  'cross  Ned's  mind  atter  he  stan'  up 
an'  holler  hisse'f  hoarse.  He  lope  out  an' 
run  home,  he  do,  an'  he  bark  at  Mister  Man 
an'  run  out  to'ards  de  road.  He  bark'  at  de 
lit'le  boy  an'  run  out  ergin;  but  none  uv  'em 
can't  make  out  howcum  he  act  so  cur' us. 
He  run  out  in  de  back  yard  an'  howl  an' 
bark,  an'  de  lit'le  colt  ax  him  whut  ails  him, 
he  tell  'im  Billy's  mos'  chok'd  ter  death, 
hangin'  on  de  pastur'  fence.  De  colt  give 
er  jump  ov'r  de  back  fence  an'  him  an'  Ned 
take  out,  jes'  er  t'arin'  down  de  big  road. 
De  lit'le  boy  an'  Mister  Man  seed  de  colt 
break  loose  an'  dey  flew  atter  him  an'  all 

117 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

uv  'em  got  ter  Billy  jes'  in  time  ter  keep  'im 
fum  chokin'  ter  death." 

"Did  Billy  die?"  asked  the  little  boy  in 
anxiety. 

"Nor,  honey,  'caze  he  nuv'r  had  rope 
ernuf;  but  ef  he  had  er  had  er  little  mo' 
rope  him  an'  all  de  uther  foolish  folks  like 
'im  wud  er  bin  dead  long  ergo !" 


118 


VII 

HOW  THE  BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS 

TAIL 


HOW  THE  BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS 

TAIL 

The  side  lawn  was  the  scene  of  a  noisy 
fray  between  the  old  house  cat  and  big  dog, 
Bray.  Servants  from  the  neighborhood 
had  quickly  gathered  to  urge  on  the  sport. 
Some  of  the  children,  Willis  among  the 
loudest,  were  crying  and  beseeching  the  men 
servants  to  save  "poor  Kitty,"  which  they 
reluctantly  did  to  the  extent  of  allowing  her 
to  escape  up  an  old  crab  apple  tree. 

"I  wush  ter  de  Lawd  he  had  er  kilt  her," 
said  Phyllis,  letting  her  rheumatic  limbs 
down  by  degrees  to  a  sitting  posture  on  the 
grass,  "  'Ceitful  old  thing,  I  don't  blame 
Bray!" 

121 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"I  love  my  Kitty!"  cried  Willis  as  he  ran 
to  the  tree.  There  he  earnestly  advised  the 
cat  to  stay  just  where  she  was  until  Bray 
went  to  sleep.  A  few  of  the  larger  children 
lingered  expecting  another  fight,  as  Bray 
continued  to  bark  and  jump  about  the  tree. 

"You  ne'en  ter  tell  dat  cat  ter  take  keer 
er  A^rse'f!  She  des  settin'  up  dat  tree 
glis'nin'  dem  old  green  eyes  on  Bray  an' 
sayin'  ter  'erse'f :  'Nuv'r  mind,  I'm  gwine 
fix  you  soon  es  I  git  down  fum  hyah!' 

"What  can  she  do,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 
asked  one  of  the  larger  girls.  "She's  too 
little  to  hurt  Bray!" 

"Yas,  an'  ole  Sis'  Cat  wus  lit'ler'n  her, 
an'  yit  she  come  mighty  nigh  ter  fixin'  Ned 
Dog  an'  Billy  Goat,  too!  Doan  nuv'r  put 
no  'pindence  in  Sis  Tabby's  fokes." 

"Oh,    Mammy    Phyllis,    please    tell    us 

122 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

about  Ned  Dog,"  and  the  children  gathered 
around  her  pressing  the  request. 

"Doan  ax  me  ter  tell  nuthin'  long  as 
Willis  keep  foolin'  roun'  Bray  wid  dat 
switch!" 

Mammy  pretended  to  rise,  but  two  of 
the  older  children  ran  and  coaxed  Willis  to 
sit  by  them  and  listen  to  the  story.  "Now, 
Mammy  Phyllis,  go  on,  he's  going  to  sit  still, 
ain't  you  Willis?"  said  one. 

"I  want  ter  whoop  Bray,"  muttered 
Willis  only  half  satisfied. 

"Atter  I  tells  you  how  'ceitful  Sis'  Cat  act 
ter  Ned  Dog,  I  boun'  you'll  change  yo' 
chune!  'Member  dat  party  Miss  Race 
Hoss  give  an'  how  it  broke  up  wid  all  uv 
'em  quoilin'  an'  'busin'  ole  Brer  Bar?  Po' 
Brer  Bar  nuv'r  got  no  vit'als  neeth'r. 
Well,  when  Sis'  Cat  lef '  dat  party,  she  wus 

123 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

so  mad  she  cudn't  walk  straight!  She  come 
er  flyin'  down  de  big  road  right  catacorn- 
der'd!  Dat  is^  she  run  in  de  road  one  minit, 
an'  de  nex'  un,  she  fotch  up  on  de  side  er 
de  mount' in;  den  hyah  she  come  back  ergin 
in  de  road !  Well,  one  uv  de  times  she  lit  on 
de  mount' in  she  fotch  up  right  in  front  er 
Mist'r  Rattlesnake's  house.  Mist'r  Rattle 
snake  had  des  got  out  er  bed  an'  stuck  his 
head  out'n  his  house  ter  git  er  little  fresh 
air,  when  Sis'  Cat  come  blip!  right  in  his 
face!  He  lick'  out  his  tongue  an'  say: 

"  'Name  er  de  Lawd,  Sis  Cat!' 

"Sis'  Cat  say:  'Name  er  de  Lawd,  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake!  Howcum  you  gittin'  up  dis 
time  de  year?' 

"  1  thought  I  heerd  m'  'larm  clock  go  off,' 
he  say. 

"  'You  ain'  hyah  no  thunder  Mister  Rat- 
124 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

tlesnake !     You  kin  g'long  back  ter  baid  an' 
take  er  three  weeks'  nap,'  sez  Sis'  Cat. 

"  I'm  sho'  I  heerd  thunder  er  som'thin' 
pow'ful  like  it/  sez  Mister  Rattlesnake. 

"Sis'  Cat  tell  him:  'You  des  heah  de 
breakin'  up  uv  Miss  Race  Hoss's  party! 
Dat's  whut  you  heah!  Brer  Bar  act  so  out- 
lashus  we  des  hatt'r  'buse  him  an'  run  him 
off!' 

"Mist'r  Rattlesnake  set  an'  look  at  Sis' 
Cat  er  minit,  'caze  yer  see  he  ain'  wake'  up 
good  yit.  Den  he  lick  out  es  tongue  an'  say : 
'Sis'  Cat,  you  sholy  ain'  th'owin'  erway 
no  fren's  is  yer?  I  knows  I  ain'  got  narry 
single  fren'  an'  I  knows  you  got  pow'ful 
few  yo'se'f !  'Pears  ter  me  yer  better  g'long 
an'  eat  up  dem  words  you  sed  ter  Brer  Bar!' 
Den  he  lick  out  his  tongue  ergin  an'  go 
on  back  ter  baid. 

125 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Sis'  Cat  set  right  dar  an'  study,  she  do! 
Den  she  make  up  her  mind  ter  take  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake'  'vice.  She  slunk  eroun'  sorter 
soft  an'  sneakin'  like  thu  de  woods  tell  she 
come  ter  Brer  Bar's  house.  She  bum!  bum! 
on  de  do'  an'  Brer  Bar  ax,  'Who  dat? 

"She  say:    'Sis' Cat.' 

"  Is  you  Sis'  Wile  Cat  er  Sis'  Tabby  Cat?' 
ax  Brer  Bar. 

"  'Sis'  Tabby  Cat.' 

ce  'You'se  at  de  wrong  do',  Sis'  Tabby  Cat,' 
sez  Brer  Bar. 

"Sis'  Cat  start  ter  cryin':  'Oh!  Brer 
Bar !  Brer  Bar !  please  lemme  come  in !  I'm 
mos'  dead,  Brer  Bar!' 

"Brer  Bar  say:  'You  bett'r  git  erway  fum 
hyah,  Sis'  Cat,  'caze  I'm  li'ble  ter  eat  eny- 
thin'  I  lays  my  paws  on !  I  nuv'r  had  ernuf 
ter  eat  at  de  party,  an'  I  ain'  pervide  m' 

126 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

fambly  wid  nuthin'  ter  eat,  an'  we'se  all 
s'  hungry  dat  we'se  dangus',  Sis'  Cat!' 

"Sis'  Cat  keep  on  cryin' :  £I  know'd  dat 
Brer  Bar; — I  know'd  you  an'  yo'  fambly  was 
hongry,  an'  dat's  howcum  I  ter  come,  Brer 
Bar!  I  come  ter  tell  you  whar  some  good 
vit'als  was  des  waitin'  fur  yer!' 

"When  Brer  Bar  hear  dat,  he  sorter  crack 
de  do'  an'  poke  his  nose  thu:  'Sis'  Tabby 
Cat,'  he  say,  'you  smells  good  ernuf  ter  eat 
yo'se'f!' 

"Sis'  Cat  mos'  skeerd  ter  death  when  she 
heah  dat,  an'  she  mos'  die  when  she  feel 
Brer  Bar's  mouf  dreanin'  an'  drippin'  on  her 
back;  so  she  stop'  cryin'  an'  sorter  back 
off  kinder  easy  like  an'  tell  Brer  Bar 
dat  Ned  Dog  got  de  fattes'  Billy  Goat  he 
ev'r  seed;  an'  ef  he'd  come  down  ter  de  ole 
sweet-gum  tree  in  Mist'r  Man's  pastur'  'bout 

127 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dark,  she'd  have  him  er  whole  tree  full  er 
honey,  an'  de  Billy  Goat,  too!" 

Willis's  lips  began  to  tremble.  He  sud 
denly  left  his  place  among  the  children  and 
falling  on  Phyllis's  breast,  sobbed  aloud. 

"Brer  Bar  ain'  eat  de  goat  yit!  He  ain' 
eb'n  got  fur  es  de  sweet-gum  tree!  Set 
hyah  in  Mammy's  lap  so  nuthin'  can't  git 
you,  an'  lis'n  ter  de  res'  er  de  tale!"  Snug 
gling  him  in  her  arms,  she  continued:  "It 
nuv'r  tuk  Sis'  Cat  long  ter  light  out  fum 
Brer  Bar's  house,  I  tell  yer!  Dat  dreanin' 
mouf  er  his'n  skeer'  her  so  bad  dat  she  nuv'r 
tetch  de  groun'  mo'n  six  times  'fo'  she  wus 
plum  out'n  de  woods.  Den  she  come  er 
cropin'  up  ter  Mister  Man's  house.  She 
look  all  erroun'  she  do,  an'  see  Ned  Dog 
wusn't  at  home;  den  she  g'long  in  de  barn 
whar  Billy  wus  huntin'  fur  sumthin'  ter 

128 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

eat.  She  take  er  seat  in  de  winder  by  de 
little  colt's  stall.  Bimeby  she  say,  'Billy, 
Miss  Turkey  Hen's  givin'  er  mouty  fine 
party  ternight,  down  at  de  old  sweet-gum 
tree  in  de  pastur'  an'  she  tole  me  ter  ax  you 
ter  come.'  Billy  couldn't  fine  nuthin'  ter 
eat  in  de  barn  but  some  old  straw  Miss  Race 
Hoss  had  done  slep'  on,  so  he  turn'  roun' 
mouty  quick  when  Sis'  Cat  tell  him  he  wus 
ax  ter  er  party.  He  sorter  laff  an'  say:  'I 
wond'r  howcum  her  ter  ax  me.' 

"Sis'  Cat  say:  'Caze  she  say  you'se  de 
fines'  an'  slickes'  uv  all  Mister  Man's 
beastes;  an'  she  gwine  have  some  nice  lit'le 
tender  rose  bushes  fur  you  ter  eat,  an'  er 
heap  er  fine  vit'als  you  loves.' 

"Billy  Goat  des  switch  his  tail  an'  grin, 
'caze  yer  know  he  wusn't  nuthin'  but  er  man 
goat,  an'  'cose  he  b'lief  all  de  comp'ments 

129 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Sis'  Cat  choose  ter  stuff  'im  wid.  An'  all 
de  men  fokes  is  des  de  same,  tell  dis  day! 
ev'y  Lord's  blessed  one  uv  'em!  When 
Sis'  Cat  see  she  done  turn  Billy's  head 
plum  roun'  she  tell  'im  not  ter  tell  Ned 
Dog  erbout  de  party,  'caze  Miss  Turkey 
Hen  say  she  ain'  got  'nuf  room  but  fur 
des  one  uv  de  fambly.  Den,  when  Sis'  Cat 
heah  Ned  Dog  er  comin',  she  lit  out,  'caze 
she  nuv'r  want  'im  ter  know  dat  she  had 
enything  ter  do  wid  Brer  Bar  eatin'  Billy 
Goat.  Yer  see  Sis'  Cat  wus  tryin'  ter  keep 
in  wid  bofe  sides." 

Slipping  her  fingers  under  the  bandanna 
kerchief  bound  about  her  head,  and  scratch 
ing  slowly,  Mammy  chuckled  to  herself: 
"Dey's  er  heap  er  fine  folks  in  dis  hyah 
town  des  like  Sis'  Cat,  too!  Yes,  Lawd,  er 
heap  uv  'em!" 

130 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

"Don't  talk  about  people !  We  just  want 
to  hear  about  beastes!"  urged  little  Mary 
Van. 

"I  hatt'r  do  it  sometimes,  chile,  'caze  fokes 
an'  beastes  has  er  heap  er  symptoms  des 
erlike!  Well,  bless  de  Lawd,  Billy  ain't  no 
sooner  seed  Ned  'fo  he  'gun  ter  brag  erbout 
de  party." 

"  'Whose  party?'  sez  Ned  Dog. 

c  'Miss  Turkey  Hen's  havin'  er  fine  party 
down  at  de  ole  sweet-gum  tree  ternight  'bout 
dark,'  sez  Billy. 

"Ned  Dog  think  Billy  tellin'  er  story,  an' 
he  say,  'Sis'  Turkey  Hen  ain'  givin'  no  party 
ternight!  I  done  see  Mist'r  Turkey  Gob 
ble  an'  de  chilluns  in  bed  when  I  come  thu 
de  peach  orchard  an'  old  Miss  Turkey  Hen, 
she  wus  des  tyin'  her  nightcap  on  her  own 
se'f.' 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"But,  yer  see,  Billy  wus  too  hard-head' d 
ter  lis'n  ter  enybody,  so  he  up  an'  say,  CI 
can't  hep  whut  you  seen;  Sis'  Cat  say  she 
gwine  have  spechul  vit'als  fur  me,  an'  I'm 
gwine!'  Den  Billy  walk  up  an'  down 
breshen  de  flies  off  n  his  back  wid  his  long 
tail." 

Seeing  that  some  objections  were  about  to 
be  raised  as  to  the  length  of  the  tail,  Phyllis 
hastened  to  add:  "In  dem  days  goats  had 
tails  des  like  hosses.  Soon  es  Billy  menshun 
Sis'  Cat's  name,  Ned  Dog  tell  him  Sis'  Cat 
layin'  er  trap  fur  him;  but  'tain't  no  use  ter 
argufy  wid  hard-head' d  fokes  like  Billy,  so 
Ned  Dog  let  'im  g'long  ter  de  party;  but  he 
crope  close  on  b'hime  'im,  an'  on  de  way,  he 
come  up  wid  Mist'r  Bloodhoun'  an'  ax  'im 
ter  g'long  wid  'im.  Mist'r  Bloodhoun'  say 
he  pow'ful  broke  down  trailin'  er  runaway 

132 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

nigger  all  day,  but  ef  Ned  was  'spectin'  er 
rompus  he  'speck  he'd  hatt'r  jine  him. 
Bimeby,  when  Billy  wus  mos'  down  ter  de 
sweet-gum  tree,  dey  hides  deyse'fs  in  er 
clump  er  red  haw  bushes.  Ole  Brer  Bar  he 
had  done  come  down  f  um  de  mount'in  early, 
an'  wus  standin'  b'hime  de  tree  des  er  gorgin' 
'esse'f  wid  honey  an'  peepin'  out,  lookin'  fur 
Billy  Goat.  When  he  see  Billy  come 
switchin'  'esse'f  'cross  he  pastur',  he  'gun  ter 
fidgitin'  so  he  can't  wait  ter  git  es  teef  in 
him,  an'  he  bus'  out  fum  b'hime  de  tree  an' 
come  er  runnin'  t'ards  Billy.  Billy  wus 
so  skeered  he  jes'  had  sense  ernuf  ter  turn 
'esse'f  roun'!  Brer  Bar  ketch  'im  by  de 
tail.  Brer  Bar  pull,  an'  Billy  pull.  Billy 
pull,  an'  Brer  Bar  pull !  Bimeby,  de  tail  come 
off  in  Brer  Bar's  claw.  Den  Billy  lit  out ;  but 
Brer  Bar  grab  'im  by  de  b'hime  leg.  Des 

133 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

den  Mister  Bloodhoun'  an'  Ned  Dog  wus 
on  top  er  Brer  Bar!  Ned  Dog  grab  Brer 
Bar's  paw  in  es  teef  s  an'  Brer  Bar  drop  Billy 
an'  grab  Ned  by  de  ye'r  an'  wus  mos' 
clampin'  es  jaws  on  Ned's  haid  when  Mist'r 
Bloodhoun'  clinch  'im  by  de  th'oat!  Brer 
Bar  ax  Mister  Bloodhoun'  please  ter  turn 
es  th'oat  loose,  dat  he  got  sumthin'  ter  tell 
'im!  Mist'r  Bloodhoun'  'nounce:  CI  won't 
turn  you  plum  loose,  but  I'll  hoi'  yo'  th'oat 
easy  like  tell  you  kin  'splain  yo'se'f !' 

"Den  Brer  Bar  splainify  'esse'f  an'  beg 
so  hard,  tell  bimeby  dey  'scuses  'im,  an'  he 
amble'  on  home  fas'  es  he  kin.  Den  dey 
come  on  home  ter  settle  matters  wid  Sis' 
Cat.  Sis'  Cat  was  er  settin'  by  Billy  moanin' 
wid  him  'bout  losin'  es  tail." 

"Did  his  tail  ever  grow  out  any  more?" 
asked  a  sympathetic  boy. 

134 


BILLY  GOAT  LOST  HIS  TAIL 

"No,  honey,  goats  ain't  nuv'r  had  no  tails 
ter  speak  uv  sense  dat  day;  but  hoopee! 
hyah  come  Ned  Dog  an'  Mister  Bloodhoun' ! 
Dey  come  er  yelpin'  wid  dey  tongues  er 
hangin'  out.  Dey  pounce  right  whar  Sis'  Cat 
wus  setting  but  dey  ain't  pounce  quick  as 
Sis'  Cat  kin  jump;  'caze  by  de  time  dey  hits 
Sis'  Cat's  seat,  Sis'  Cat,  she  was  plum  on 
top  er  de  cow  house,  standin'  dar  wid  'er  back 
up,  an'  her  tail  bushy  out.  Ned  Dog  dare 
her  ter  come  down  an'  splain  'erse'f ;  but  Sis' 
Cat  say  she  ain't  got  nuthin'  ter  'splain,  an' 
what's  mo'  she  doan  take  no  dog's  dare.  An' 
dat  howcum  dey  quoil  an  'spute  whensum- 
ever  dey  meets  tell  dis  day." 

"But,  Mammy  Phyllis,  all  cats  are  not  as 
mean  as  ole  Sis'  Cat,"  ventured  a  little  girl. 

"Honey,  my  gran-mammy  wus  black! 
What  color  is  I?" 

135 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Black!"  chimed  all  the  children. 

"An3  dat  crab  apple  tree, — what  sort  er 
apples  does  you  git  off  n  hit?" 

"Crab  apples!"  was  the  answer. 

"Well,  ole  Sis'  Cat  was  mean  an'  'ceitful, 
an' all  'er  chillun  is  gwine  ter  be  des  like  her 
long  es  I  stays  black  an'  dem  crab  apples 
stays  sour.  Now  run  erlong, — dere's  de 
fust  bell !" 


136 


VIII 
SHOO  FLY 


SHOO  FLY 

Phyllis  was  eating  her  dinner  under  the 
cherry  tree  near  the  kitchen  door.  Willis 
seated  himself  on  the  grass  in  front  of  her. 

"Mammy,  you  swallowed  a  fly  then,"  he 
said  with  earnestness. 

"Look  er  heah,  boy,  ain't  you  had  ernuf  ter 
eat,  dat  you  got  ter  set  hyah  an'  sight  ev'y 
piece  uv  vit'als  I  puts  in  my  mouf  ?" 

"Well,  you  didn't  want  to  eat  a  fly,  did 
you?"  he  answered  defensively. 

"Ef  I  eats  er  fly,  hit's  me  doin'  hit,  ain't 
hit?"  with  a  leg  of  a  chicken  poised  half  way 
to  her  mouth. 

"But  Mama  said  they'd  poison  you." 
Willis  was  in  trim  for  argument. 

139 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Yo*  ma  got  er  heap  er  new  fangl'd  no 
tions;  I  dunno  howcum  fokes  jes'  star  tin' 
ter  git  fly  pis'n'd.  We  bin  eatin'  vit'als  dat 
flies  lights  on,  sense  long  'fo'  yo'  ma  wus 
born'd.  An'  An'  Ca'line,  dat's  mos'  er 
hundred  ye'r  ole,  say  dat  whin  er  fly  light 
on  her  'lasses  she  lick  ev'y  speck  uv  hit  ofFn 
him  'f o'  she  let  him  git  erway." 

"Uncle  Hugh  says  they'll  make  you  awful 
sick,"  he  pressed,  though  feeling  his  position 
weakened. 

"Dey  doan  make  nobody  sick,  but  dem 
whut  puts  on  so  miny  airs,"  trying  to  talk 
with  her  mouth  over  full. 

"My  mama  don't  put  on  airs,"  he  insisted 
with  a  tone  of  injury. 

"She  do  too — dey  ain'  nobody  put  on  es 
min'y  fly  airs  es  yo'  ma.  I  heah  one  dese 
ve'y  lit'le  shoo  flies  talkin'  'bout  Miss  Lucy 

140 


SHOO  FLY 

las'  week.  Shoo  Fly  settin'  up  heah  on 
de  Km'  er  dis  tree  talkin'  ter  Hoss  Fly. 
He  tell  Hoss  Fly  he  ain'  had  er  squar' 
meal  fur  er  mont'. 

"Hoss  Fly  tell  'im  ter  come  on  an'  g'long 
down  ter  de  stable  an'  take  dinn'r  wid  'im. 

"Shoo  Fly  say5  'I  can'  git  no  sumthin'  ter 
eat  out'n  corn,  an'  oats,  I  wants  chickin'  pie, 
an'  sweet  tat'rs,  an'  blackberry  dumplin' 
sich  es  fokes  eats — go  off,  boy,'  he  say,  'I 
ain'  no  Hoss  Fly.' 

"Hoss  Fly  say,  'Hits  er  pity  yer  ain't — 
yer  wud  live  ter  be  er  ole'r  man  if  yer  wus.' 3 

"Why,  Mammy,  'caus'  Mister  Hoss  Fly's 
the  biggest?"  His  eyes  followed  her,  as  she 
went  to  the  kitchen  door  and  exchanged  her 
plate  for  one  of  blackberry  dumpling. 

"De  bigges'  ain'  got  nuthin'  ter  do  wid 
hit,"  as  she  resumed  her  seat;  "hit  de  fokes 

141 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dey  haster  'sociate  wid,  dat's  dang'us.  Dey 
ain'  nuthin'  mo'  dangersum  ter  er  fly'n  yo' 
ma,"  she  looked  him  straight  in  the  eye. 
"She  got  all  de  wind'rs  fas'n'd  up  so  yer 
can't  shet  er  bline;  an'  she  got  dat  sticky 
pap'r  you  sets  in  ev'ytime  yer  goes  in  de 
kitchin;  an'  she  got  dem  pisnous  flow'r  boxes 
settin'  ev'ywhar;  an'  she  run  'roun'  all  day 
atter  one  fly,  hittin'  'bout  de  house  like  de 
fly  wus  pis'n,  sho'  nuf.  Miss  Lucy's  er 
sight,  dat's  de  trufe,  an'  I  doan  blame  Shoo 
Fly  fur  busin'  her." 

The  soft  dumpling  rolled  down  her  throat, 
and  Willis  swallowed  in  sympathy. 

"Is  Shoo  Fly  on  the  limb  now?' 

"Nor,  he  tak'n  din'r  wid  me  terday,  an'  las' 
night,  he  tak'n  supp'r  wid  Miss  Lucy,"  she 
laughed  aloud. 

"Did  Mama  try  to  kill  him?"  anxiously. 
142 


SHOO  FLY 

"She  sho'  did,  son,  but  dis  heah  Shoo  Fly 
got  er  haid  er  Miss  Lucy  las'  night,"  still  she 
laughed.  "Yas,  suh,  Shoo  Fly  tell  Hoss  Fly 
he  sho'  gwine  perish  ef  he  doan  git  er  bite 
fum  sumwhars." 

"Hoss  Fly  ax  'im:  Is  yer  skeer'd  ter  go 
in  Miss  Lucy's  house  fur  vit'als?" 

"Shoo  Fly  say,  1  ain'  feerd  er  no  Miss 
Lucy — I  bin  buttin'  m'  haid  up  'ginst  sum'in' 
nuth'r  in  de  wind'rs,  tell  m'  haid  right  full 
er  bumps.' 

"Hoss  Fly  say,  'You  ain'  got  no  sense, 
Shoo  Fly, — 'cose  you  can't  git  in  dat  wire 
foolishness !  De  onlies'  way  ter  git  in,  is  ter 
set  up  on  de  porch,  an'  wait  fur  sum  de  f okes 
ter  op'n  de  do'.' 

"Dat  peart'n  Shoo  Fly  up  moutily,  an'  he 
say  he  gwine  dat  minit,  an'  he  do.  He  git 
ter  de  front  porch  jes'  es  Miss  Ma'y  wus 

H3 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

fancy  talkin'  ter  one  er  her  beaux.  Shoo  Fly 
slip  in,  an'  fly  back  ter  de  pantry  an'  light 
on  sum  er  dis  heah  right  heah/'  she  scraped 
the  butter  sauce  from  the  edge  of  the  plate 
and  smacked  her  lips.  "Whoopee,  dat 
sort'r  vit'als  drive  de  skeer  out'n  enny  fly. 
Shoo  Fly  jes'  hop  erbout,  an'  gorge  hisse'f, 
tell  bimeby  he  can't  hole  no  mo'.  He  start 
ter  go  out  de  wind'r,  but  he  'memb'r  'bout 
dem  bumps  on  his  haid,  so  he  tu'n  roun'  ter  go 
in  de  parler,  whin  he  come  'cross  Miss  Lucy! 
She  start  at  'im  wid  her  fly-kill' r,  an'  sakes  er 
live! — you  ort'r  seed  de  way  Shoo  Fly  make 
Miss  Lucy  run  erbout  dat  house!"  Again 
she  laughed,  calling  to  mind  Miss  Lucy's 
daily  fly  fights.  "But  Shoo  Fly  hide  b'hime 
yer  gran'pa's  pictur'  ov'r  de  mantelpiece, 
an'  wint  fas'  ter  sleep.  He  doan  wake  up 
no  mo'  tell  supp'r  time,  neeth'r.  He 

144 


SHOO  FLY 

g'long  in  de  dinin'  room  ter  supp'r  wid  de 
fambly,  an'  whin  dey  sets  down,  he  tak'n 
his  seat  on  de  cream  pitch'r.  Miss  Lucy 
knock  at  'im,  she  do,  den  he  recoleck  de  fuss 
him  an'  her  done  had  wid  one  nuth'r,  so  he 
g'long  ov'r  ter  Miss  Ma'y's  beau's  plate, 
whar  he  know  he  kin  eat  all  he  want  ter." 

"Wasn't  he  afraid  of  Shoo  Fly?"  asked 
Willis,  surprised. 

"I  nuv'r  heah  'im  pass  no  'pinion  'bout 
de  matt'r.  Shoo  Fly  know  dat  man's  eyes 
too  bizzy  lookin'  at  sum'in'  purtier'n  him, 
an'  he  know  ergin  de  man  got  too  much 
mann'rs  ter  set  up  an'  fight  flies  whin  he's 


vis'tin'. 


"Miss  Lucy,  she  sot  dar  an'  mos'  fidgit 
herse'f  ter  death,  whin  Shoo  Fly  light  fus' 
in  de  gent'muns  vit'als,  den  up  on  his  nose. 
De  man  breash  'im  off  his  nose  er  heap  er 

H5 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

times,  but  Shoo  Fly  g'long  back  ev'y  time, 
'caze  hit  wus  er  nice  place  ter  wash  de  greese 
off'n  his  face  an'  han's.  An3  ev'y  time  he 
git  coffee  er  ice  cream,  er  enny  thing  on  his 
foots,  he  g'long  back  ter  sumwhars  on  dat 
man's  face  ter  wash  his  han's,  an'  wipe  'em 
on  his  coat  tails.  Miss  Lucy  say  she  know 
de  man  think  she  got  er  million  flies  in  dat 
house. 

"Shoo  Fly  done  full  er  vit'als  now,  so  he 
g'long  ter  bed  b'hime  yer  gran'pa's  pictur'. 
In  de  mawnin',  he  git  up  an'  look  erbout,  he 
do,  an'  I  tell  yer  he  git  pow'ful  wo'  out 
waitin'  fur  dem  sleepy  haid'd  niggers  ter 
start  dey  wurk,  so  by  de  time  de  cant'lopes 
git  fix'd,  Shoo  Fly  wus  so  hongry  dat  he  eat 
hisse'f  plum  full  er  mush-mil'n  'fo'  brekfus' 
time.  He  fly  'roun'  an'  zamine  dat  fly  pap'r 
but  he  ain'  got  no  room  fur  no  mo'  eatin'; 

146 


SHOO  FLY 

den  he  look  at  dat  cur' us  Pison  flow'r,  but 
he  keep  way  fum  dat,  'caze  he  say  he  ain5 
no  bee.  Jes'  den  heah  come  Miss  Lucy  wid 
'er  fly-kill'r.  Him  an'  her  dances  considerbul 
ergin,  but  bimeby  he  g'long  ter  take  er  nap 
b'hime  yer  gran'pa,  an'  Miss  Lucy  set  down 
ter  read  de  mawnin'  pap'r. 

"Whin  he  wake  upa  he  sort'r  feel  holl'r,  he 
do,  'caze  cant' lope  res'  mighty  light  yer 
knows,  so  he  g'long  ter  hunt  sumpin'  nuth'r 
ter  eat.  He  think  Miss  Lucy  done  fergit 
'im  by  now,  but  no,  Lawd,  he  dunno  Miss 
Lucy,  fur  he  ain'  buz  hisse'f  mo'n  er  time  er 
two,  'fo'  Miss  Lucy  take  atter  him.  She 
skeer  'im  so  bad,  dat  he  fergit  all  'bout  dem 
wire  things  in  de  wind'r,  but  Lawsee,  whin 
his  haid  come  'ginst  de  wire,  hit  knock  de 
senses  out'n  'im,  an'  whin  dat  fly-kill'r  er 
Miss  Lucy's  hit  his  toe,  hit  tu'n  'im  so  sick, 

147 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

he  fell  blip!  right  on  de  fly  pap'r.  Mussy 
grashus!  you  ort'r  heah  Shoo  Fly  holl'rin' 
an'  er  buzzin'  fur  Hoss  Fly. 

1  'Bout  dis  time,  whin  Hoss  Fly  doan  see 
nuthin'  er  Shoo  Fly  on  de  cherry  tree,  he 
g'long  ter  git  er  peep  in  at  de  wind'r  ter  see 
ef  he  kin  git  enny  news  uv  'im;  an'  bless  de 
Lawd,  he  ain'  git  ter  de  wind'r  'fo'  he 
heah  Shoo  Fly  holl'rin':  fOh,  Hoss  Fly, 
p-1-e-a-s-e  come  hope  me  out'n  heah!' 

"Hoss  Fly  run  ter  de  front  do',  but  dat's 
shet  tight,  so  he  take  an'  run  'roun'  ter  de 
kitchin  do'  whar  he  know  dey's  allus 
keerles'.  He  fly  ter  de  kitchin'  do'  an'  seen 
Kitty  standin'  wid  her  foot  in  de  do'  passin' 
news  wid  ole  An'  Malviny,  an'  he  know  he 
got  plenty  time  ter  go  in  an'  'ten'  ter  his 
biznes',  'fo'  dat  do'  git  shet  ergin.  He  fly 
thu  de  kitchin,  an'  make  fur  de  liberry,  whar 

148 


SHOO-FLY  HOLL  *R,   '  LOOK  OUT  FUR  M*  LEGS  !  '  " 


SHOO  FLY 

po'  Shoo  Fly  had  done  mos'  buzz  hisse'f  ter 
death. 

"Hoss  Fly  swoop  down  an'  grab  'im  by 
de  wing,  but  Shoo  Fly  holl'r,  'Look  out  fur 
m'  legs!  Oh,  Lawdy,  you'se  pullin'  m'  wing 
off —  Oh,  Lawdy,  Lawdy!' 

"Nobody  dunno  de  mis'ry  po5  Shoo  Fly 
wus  in.  I  tell  yer  Hoss  Fly  wurk  mouty 
keerful  ter  git  'im  all  out  tergeth'r.  Den  he 
liftes  'im  up,  but  he  doan  hatt'r  hole  on  ter 
'im,  'caze  Shoo  Fly  so  sticky  he  hole  his  own 
se'f  on.  Hoss  Fly  come  er  flyin'  back  thu 
de  kitchin." 

"Did  Kitty  have  the  door  open  for  him?" 

"Cose,  boy,  ain't  I  done  alreddy  tole  yer 
Kitty  an'  Mai  gwine  talk  tell  Miss  Lucy 
come  an'  put  'em  ter  wurk?  Yas,  suh,  Hoss 
Fly  didn't  had  no  trub'le  gittin'  'im  out  er 
dat  kitchin, — an'  he  come  flyin'  straight  ter 

149 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

de  stable,  an'  light  wid  Shoo  Fly  on  top  er 
de  kerrige.  He  tell  'im  ter  roll  hisse'f 
erbout  on  de  kiv'r  tell  he  git  shed  er  dat 
sticky  pison  on  Jim." 

"Did  Shoo  Fly  go  back  to  the  house  when 
he  got  well?" 

Willis  rose  as  he  saw  the  old  woman  pre 
paring  to  take  her  plate  to  the  kitchen. 

"Nor,  suhree,  Shoo  Fly  say,  he  done  got 
his  full  er  big  f okes !  He  say  he  done  f oun' 
out  hit  wus  er  heap  bett'r  ter  g'long  an5  live 
whar  de  Lawd  born'd  yer  ter  live  at,  dan  ter 
go  'mongst  fokes  dat  doan  want  yer." 


150 


IX 
ELECTION  DAY 


ELECTION  DAY 

"Mammy,  can't  my  papa  be  mayor  if  he 
wants  to?"  bragged  Willis,  darting  a  satis 
fied  look  at  Mary  Van. 

'Til  tell  yer  mo5  'bout  dat  dis  time  ter- 
morrer,"  was  the  unexpected  reply. 

"Yahn,  yahn,  yahn,"  taunted  Mary  Van. 

"He  can,  too,"  retorted  Willis. 

Willis's  papa  was  a  candidate  for  mayor, 
hence  in  the  family  politics  colored  the  con 
versation  from  the  parlor  through  the  nurs 
ery  even  to  the  kitchen. 

"De  reason  I  says  whut  I  does,"  Mammy 
apologized,  "is  'caze  dey  tells  me  er  dark  hoss 
kin  jump  in  at  de  las'  minit  an  bus'  de  whole 
thing  all  ter  pieces." 

153 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Does  he  kick  up  and  run  away*?"  Willis 
jerked  at  her  apron  to  hasten  the  reply. 

"Dey  runs  erway  wid  de  'lection  some 
times,  ef  de  uth'r  run'rs  ain'  sho'  nuf  race 
bosses  an'  got  mighty  strong  harnes'  on  'em." 

"Mammy,  less  me  an'  Mary  Van  be  race 
bosses,  an'  you  be  er  dark  hoss,  an'  see  which 
one  can  beat." 

"I  low  ef  we-all  wuster  race  hoss  'roun'  dis 
hyah  garret,  'tain'  long  fo'  yo'  ma'll  be  de 
dark  hoss  ter  do  de  beatin'." 

"No,  Mammy,  put  m'  harness  on,"  shak 
ing  the  bells  in  impatience. 

"I  can't  play  no  race  hoss  up  hyah  terday, 
boy,  'caze  Miss  Lucy  got  her  mine  on  'lection 
news,  an'  she  say  you  got  ter  be  quiet." 

"No,  I'm  going  to  be  a  race  horse,  put  m' 
harness  on!" 

"Auntie  might  whip  you,  Willis,"  ven- 

154 


ELECTION  DAY 

tured  Mary  Van,  £ 'mightn't  she,  Mammy 
Phyllis?" 

"She  whup  'im  in  er  minit,  ef  he  fool  wid 
her  terday." 

"Well,  Mammy—"  he  fretted. 

"Lis'n  hyah,  baby — Miss  Race  Hoss  settin' 
ov'r  yond'r  in  de  pastur'  waitin'  jes'  like  yo' 
ma  is  terday." 

"What's  she  waiting  for?" 

"Waitin'  ter  hyah  ef  Mist'r  Race  Hoss 
beat  Brer  Bar  ter  be  ruler  er  de  beastes.  Oh, 
I  tell  yer  Ned  Dog  mos'  run  hisse'f  plum  ter 
death  gittin'  votes  fur  Mist'r  Race  Hoss;  an' 
Mist'r  Wile  Cat,  he  de  haid  man  gittin'  votes 
fur  Brer  Bar." 

"But,  Mammy—" 

"Lawd,  boy,  I  wush  you  cud  heah  de 
scand'lous  bettin'  gwine  on  in  dat  pastur' — 
ev'ybody  puttin'  money  on  Mist'r  Race 

155 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Hoss,  'caze  dey  see  Brer  Bar's  too  slow  an' 
sleepy  mind'd  ter  keep  up  wid  Mist'r  Race 
Hoss.  An'  den,  too,  nobody  doan  trus'  Mis 
t'r  Wile  Cat  fur  nuthin'.  Mist'r  Wile  Cat 
all  time  projeckin'  wid  some  sorter  big 
sumpin'  nuth'r  dat  nuv'r  do  tu'n  out  ter  be 
er  thing.  So  yer  see  nobody  ain'  gwine  vote 
fur  Brer  Bar,  'caze  dey  skeer'd  er  Mist'r 
Wile  Cat's  dealin's.  Dey  talks  all  dis  out 
in  de  pastur'3  an'  Mist'r  Tom  Cat  he  set  an' 
lis'n  ter  de  confab.  Sometime  he  buse  Brer 
Bar,  an'  sometime  he  make  out  he  'sleep  an' 
doan  heah. 

"One  day  Mist'r  Jack  Donkey  wint  up  ter 
de  fod'r  rack  ter  git  er  chaw  er  fod'r,  an' 
whin  he  come  thu  de  cow  shed  he  come 
'cross  Mist'r  Tom  Cat  stretchin'  his  claws. 
Atter  dey  passes  howdy  wid  one  nuth'r, 
Mist'r  Tom  Cat,  he  say,  'Jack,  I  heah  some 

156 


ELECTION  DAY 

fokes  say,  dey  wush  ter  de  Lawd  you  wus 
in  Brer  Bar's  place.' 

"Jack,  he  tu'n  his  ye'rs  'roun',  he  do,  an' 
say,  'Who  say  dat,  Tom*?' 

"Tom  Cat  say,  'Ev'ybody  jes'  wushin'  fur 
er  big  sho'  nuf  man  like  you  ter  come  in  an' 
whoop  out  dat  ole  stuck  up  Race  Hoss.' 

"Whin  Jack  Donkey  heah  dat,  he  sorter 
switch  his  tail,  an'  stomp  fus'  one  foot  an' 
den  de  uth'rs  uv  his  foots,  an'  he  keep  his 
ye'rs  tu'nin'  'roun'  an'  'roun'." 

"What's  the  reason  he  does  that,  Mammy 
Phyllis;  were  the  flies  bothering  him?"  asked 
the  little  girl. 

"He  studyin',  honey,  dat  sort'r  confab'll 
wurk  on  men  fokes,  let  lone  er  donkey. 
Jack  sort'r  tu'n  matt'rs  ov'r  in  his  mine,  an' 
he  say  ter  hisse'f,  1  sho'  is  er  sho'  nuf  big 
man,  an'  I  sho'  is  got  er  heap  er  sense,  'caze  I 

157 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

kin  outdo  Mist'r  Man  up  yond'r  enny  day. 
Nobody  can't  make  me  do  nuthin'  my  mine 
ain'  sot  on  doin',  an'  enybody  kin  hitch  up 
dat  high  steppin'  Race  Hoss,  an'  make  'im 
plow  er  do  enny  sort'r  thing  whut  dey 
pleases.  Yas,'  he  says,  1  got  mo'  sense  dan 
Race  Hoss,  an'  bless  de  Lawd,  ef  I  doan 
b'leef  I'm  bett'r  lookin',  too !' 

"Mist'r  Tom  Cat  ain'  say  er  thing,  he  jes' 
keep  er  stretchin'  his  claws,  waitin'  fur  Jack 
Donkey  ter  git  plum  full  er  hisse'f .  Bime- 
by,  he  git  full  ernuf  ter  bile  ov'r,  an'  he  say, 
'Brer  Tom,  I  ain'  much  on  pol' ticks,  you 
knows  dat, — but  ef  de  plantation  is  jes'  brow 
beat  by  dat  ripsnortin'  Race  Hoss,  an'  can't 
git  shed  er  him  no  uth'r  way,  'cep'n  fur  some 
uth'r  bigg'r  man  'n  him  ter  run  'ginst  'im, 
den  I'm  yer  man.' 

"Tom,  he  light  out  fum  dar,  an'  make 

158 


ELECTION  DAY 

tracks  all  ov'r  de  pastur'  tell  he  come  ter 
Mist'r  Billy  Goat's  house." 

"Was  it  Ned  Dog's  Billy  Goat?"  and 
Willis  was  contented  to  lay  aside  the  har 
ness. 

"Hit  wus  Billy's  gran'pa,  ole  Cap'n  Goat. 
Cap'n  Goat  wus  walkin'  up  an'  down  de 
branch  washin'  his  foots  an'  takin'  er  swall'r 
er  water  ev'y  now  an'  den,  an'  whin  Tom 
Cat  come  erlong  an'  op'n  up  an'  tell  his 
biznes',  de  Cap'n  git  so  'cited,  dat  he  stomp 
water  all  ov'r  creation,  an'  Tom  git  right 
sharply  sprinkl'd.  He  jump  up  an'  shake 
hisse'f,  he  do,  an'  sorter  start  up  ter  de  shade 
er  de  chestnut  tree.  Dey  pass  er  heap  er 
conversation,  dey  does,  but  de  upshot  uv  hit 
wus,  dat  Cap'n  Goat  'cide  ter  put  Jack 
Donkey  up  es  er  dark  hoss. 

"Mist'r  Tom  Cat,  he  run  an'  tell  Brer 
159 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Mule,  an'  Mist'r  Dur'm  Cow,  an'  Mist'r 
Brindle  Cow,  an'  ole  man  Hog,  ter  run  quick 
ter  de  ches'nut  tree,  dat  Cap'n  Goat's  got 
sumpin'  big  ter  tell  'em!  Whin  dey  gits 
dar,  an'  passes  de  news  back'ards  an'  fur'ards 
'mongst  derse'fs,  dey  'cides  ter  run  Jack 
Donkey  in  de  race. 

"Mist'r  Dur'am  Cow  say,  'Jack's  mo' 
stronger'n  Race  Hoss.' 

"Ole  man  Hog  say,  'Yas,  an'  he  kin  wurk 
long'r  an'  mo'  hard'r'n  Race  Hoss.' 

"Oh,  dey  praises  Jack  Donkey  up  moutily, 
an'  all  uv  'em  say  dey'll  whup  Mist'r  Race 
Hoss  so  bad  dat  he'll  be  'sham'd  ter  trot  'long 
side  uv  er  mud  turtle. 

"Dey  so  bizzy  wid  der  confab,  dat  dey  ain' 
notice  Mist'r  Wile  Cat  settin'  up  on  er  lim' 
cr  de  tree.  Atter  dey  spies  him,  dey  axes  'im 
ter  pass  his  'pinion  on  de  meetin'. 

160 


ELECTION  DAY 

"He  up  an'  low,  he  did,  dat  he  know  Brer 
Bar  ain'  in  de  race,  but,  sezee,  Mack  Donkey 
can't  do  much  bet'r'n  Brer  Bar,  ef  you  let 
f okes.  know  'im.' 

"Dey  axes  him  how  dey  kin  hope  hit. 

"He  tell  'em  ter  run  him  by  de  name  er 
Bline  Billy. 

"Dey  ax  'im  how  he  speck  Bline  Billy 
name  gwine  keep  fokes  fum  knowin'  Jack 
Donkey  whin  he  'pear  ter  make  his  canvas. 

"Wile  Cat  say  ter  make  'im  kiv'r  hisse'f 
up  whinsumev'r  he  rise  'fo'  de  congregation. 

"An3  dat's  whut  dey  done,  an'  nobody 
'cep'n  dem  fokes  und'r  de  ches'nut  tree  know 
Bline  Billy's  sho'  nuf  name. 

"Ned  Dog,  he  go  tell  Mist'r  Race  Hoss 
'bout  dis  new  fine  run'r  dat's  makin'  sich  fine 
speeches  'ginst  'im.  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  tell 
Ned  Dog  ter  git  der  side  tergeth'r  so  dey  kin 

161 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

confab  erbout  de  mat'r.  Ned  Dog,  he  passes 
de  wurd  ter  'em  all,  an5  he  'speshully  tell 
Brer  Mule  ter  be  dar  sho'. 

"Brer  Mule  tell  him  he  can't  make  up  his 
min'  which  side  he's  on,  he  say  he  kin  ter 
Bline  Billy,  an'  he  ort'r  vote  fur  him. 

"Ned  Dog  tell  him  he  mustn't  fergit  dat 
him  an'  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  kin,  too. 

"He  say  he  ain'  fergit  hit,  an'  dat's  how- 
cum  he  so  twist' d  up  'bout  votin'.  He  set 
an'  study,  he  do,  an'  de  mo'  he  study,  de  mo' 
he  can't  make  up  his  mine." 

"Make  him  vote  for  Mister  Race  Hoss, 
Mammy." 

"Make  who,  boy? — Brer  Mule  settin'  up 
on  dat  fence  stud' in'  jes  whar  Ned  Dog  lef 


Willis    became    discouraged    over    Mis 
ter  Race  Horse's  prospects  and  insisted  with 

162 


ELECTION  DAY 

much  feeling  that  Phyllis  had  influenced 
the  animals  in  Jack  Donkey's  behalf. 

"Go  off,  boy,  how  I  gwine  make  dese 
trashy  creeturs  vote  fur  high  tone  fokes 
like  yo'  pa  an'  Mist'r  Race  Hoss?  Dey 
dunno  nuthin'  'cep'n  whut  de  murchine  tell 
'em  ter  vote,"  shaking  her  head  in  condem 
nation  and  mumbling  to  herself.  "Some 
times  I  studies  ter  m'se'f  ef  de  wimmin  fokes 
cud  do  enny  bett'r." 

"Mammy  Phyllis,  please  make  somebody 
come  to  Mister  Race  Horse's  meeting" 
urged  Mary  Van. 

"Doan  you  both'r  yose'f  'bout  dat  meetin', 
'caze  Ned  Dog  both'rin'  nuf  fur  bof e  uv  yer. 
He  go  tell  Mist'r  Rooster  ter  telerfome  ter 
Mist'r  Turk'y  Gobler,  an'  Mist'r  Peacock, 
an'  he  tell  Mist'r  Bloodhoun'  fur  him  ter 
run  an'  tell  Mist'r  Jersey  Cow,  an' — " 

163 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"An'  Mister  Turtle,"  suggested  Willis, 
trying  to  help  the  meeting  along. 

"Nor,  suh,  ole  man  Mud  Turtle  ain'  got 
no  bisnes'  at  dis  meetin',  he  'longs  wid  de 
Bline  Billy  crowd.  Ef  you  talkin'  'bout 
Mist'r  Di'mon'  Back  Terrapin,  den  you'se 
right,  'caze  he  wus  dar  on  de  amen  bench, 
an'—" 

"Where  were  the  sheep,  Mammy*?" 

"Dat's  so,  baby,  I  mos'  fergit  all  'bout 
de  'spute  Unk  Bell  Weth'r  an'  ole  Daddy 
Ram  Sheep  had  'bout  de  mat'r.  Daddy 
Ram  Sheep  wanter  vote  fur  Bline  Billy,  but 
Unk  Bell  Weth'r  say  dey  got  ter  heah  mo' 
speakin'  'fo'  dey  got  nuf  sense  ter  know 
which  one  de  bes'  side. 

"Well,  de  speakin'  start'  an'  I  tell  yer  hit 
kep'  up  scand'lus,  too. 

"Mist'r  Race  Hoss  'vite  Bline  Billy  an' 
164 


ELECTION  DAY 

Brer  Bar  bofe  uv  'em  ter  speak  wid  'im,  but 
Brer  Bar  feer'd  ter,  an'  ev'y  time  Jack 
Donkey  say  he  gwine  mix  speeches  wid 
Mist'r  Race  Hoss,  ole  Uncle  Gee-Haw 
Steer  giv'  er  big  kick  'ginst  hit. 

"He  say,  Twon'  do,  twon'  do!' 

"Fin'ly  Ned  Dog  ax  Cap'n  Goat  ef  Bline 
Billy  skeer'd  ter  meet  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  on 
de  same  stump,  will  he  'gree  ter  meet  'im 
on  diffunt  stumps  but  tolerbul  close  ter- 
gether,  so  dey  kin  see  which  one  kin  out  do 
de  uth'r. 

"Cap'n  Goat  say  Bline  Billy  ain'  skeer'd 
er  no  race  hoss  dat  ev'r  capr'd  on  er  track, 
an'  ter  'nounce  de  time  an'  name  de  stumps, 
an'  Blin'  Billy'll  be  dar  wid  fo'  foots  an' 
er  tongue  dat'll  make  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  eat 
up  all  dat  big  talk  he  bin  scat'rin'  'roun'. 

"Whin  ole  Unk  Gee-Haw  Steer  heah 
165 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

'bout  de  meetin'  he  kick  er  'ginst  hit,  he  say 
dat  donkey  gwine  make  er  jack  er  hisse'f 
sho'  es  sho'  kin  be;  dat  fokes'll  fin'  out  who 
Bline  Billy  is,  ef  he  start  ter  talkin'  wid 
Mist'r  Race  Hoss. 

"Mist'r  Tom  Cat  say,  'Nor,  Jack  Donkey 
gwinter  keep  hisse'f  kiv'r'd  up  plum  tell  de 
'lection's  ov'r.' 

"Sez  Unk  Gee-Haw  Steer,  1  wants  yer 
all  ter  'member  I  kick'd  'ginst  hit  ter  de  ve'y 
las'/ 

"Oh,  I  tells  yer  dar  wus  mouty  times 
gwine  on  gittin'  reddy  fur  dat  'casion;  de 
pastur'  wus  plum  full  er  flags. 

"Sis'  Tabby  Cat,  she  slip  ov'r  ter  Miss 
Race  Hosses  house  an'  say,  'Miss  Race 
Hoss5  Mist'r  Tom  Cat  say  hit  mos'  kill  him 
ter  vote  'ginst  Mist'r  Race  Hoss,  but  Cap'n 
Goat  done  bin  sich  er  good  frin'  ter  our 

166 


ELECTION  DAY 

fambly  dat  Tom  bleege  ter  do  like  de  Cap'n 
ax  'im,  but  hit  mos'  killin'  Tom,  'caze  he  say 
Mist'r  Race  Hoss  is  de  man  fur  de  place, 
an'  he  hope  he  gwine  git  'lect'd. 

"Miss  Race  Hoss  ain'  sayin'  nuthin'. 
She  know  all  'bout  Mist'r  Tom  Cat's  doin's 
an'  Sis'  Tabby  wusn't  foolin'  nobody  but 
herse'f .  Lawd,  chillun,"  she  mused,  prepar 
ing  to  cut  some  quilt  pieces,  "how  menny 
Sis'  Tabby  Cats  is  bin  ter  see  Miss  Lucy  heah 
lately?"  ' 

"Well,  de  speakin'  day  come.  Bline 
Billy  wus  settin'  off  on  his  stump  all  kiv'r'd 
up,  so  nobody  kin  tell  him.  Cap'n  Goat 
settin'  right  close  ter  him  whisperin'  all  de 
time,  an'  Brer  Turkey  Buzzard  he  swoopin' 
all  eroun'  de  congergation  takin'  messages 
fur  Cap'n  Goat,  an'  pickin'  up  eny  scrap  uv 
vit'als  he  kin  fine. 

167 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Mist'r  Race  Hoss  settin'  on  his  stump, 
too,  wid  Jedge  Eagle  perch' d  'long  side  er 
him  an'  Ned  Dog  on  de  uth'r  side. 

"Mist'r  Bull-finch  an'  John  Mockin'  Bird 
wus  de  lead'rs  er  de  ban'  an'  I  tell  yer  dat 
musick  wus  sumthin'  ter  heah  sho'  nuf . 

"Cap'n  Goat  say  dey  doan  want  no 
musick  playin'  at  der  speakin'. 

"Brer  Bull  Frog  say:  'Nor,  suhree,  you 
git  er  jug-er-rum  an'  put  hit  wit  Sis'  Ginny 
Hen's  boys  up  in  de  gal'ry,  long  wid  Miss 
Wile  Lucy  Goose's  chilluns,  an'  you  got  nuf 
fuss  fur  fifty  meetin's.' 

"Mist'r  Tom  Cat  slap  down  on  his  leg  an' 
say,  'Dat's  de  very  thing;  dat  ef  Mist'r 
Race  Hoss  git  ter  th'owin'  off  too  much 
language,  jes'  ter  git  Brer  Bull  Frog  ter 
start  off  de  Ginny  chorus  an'  he  bet  Race 
Hoss  won't  heah  his  own  se'f  talk.'  : 

168 


ELECTION  DAY 

Willis  moved  closer.  "Was  all  of  'em 
sittin5  together,  Mammy?" 

"Nor,  dey  wus  fur  nuf  erpart  fur  bofe  uv 
'em  ter  keep  der  own  crowd." 

"Where  did  Brer  Mule  sit?'  Mary  Van 
remembered  to  ask. 

"And  where  did  Uncle  Bell  Weth'r  take 
the  sheep?"  put  in  Willis. 

"Brer  Mule  had  bisnes'  dat  take  'im  clean 
off'n  de  plantation,  honey,  an'  dat  bisnes' 
keep  'im  plum  tell  'lection  day's  ov'r.  Yas, 
Lawd,  an'  er  whole  passel  er  yo'  pa's  frien's 
went  wid  him  ter  hope  'im  ten'  ter  his 
bisnes'." 

"Did  Uncle  Bell  Weth'r  and  the  sheep  go, 
too?" 

"Nor,  son,  dey  jes'  nachelly  ain'  got  der 
mines  sot  yit,  an'  dey  ain'  settin'  wid  one 
nur  t'other.  Dey  huddl'd  tergeth'r  right 

169 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

b'twixt  de  two,  waitin'  fur  Unk  Bell 
Weth'r  ter  ring  de  bell,  den  all  uv  'em  gwine 
move  tergeth'r. 

"But  youall  keep  er  talkin'  so  much,  Mis- 
t'r  Race  Hoss  an'  Bline  Billy  gittin'  wo'  out 
settin'  on  dem  stumps." 

"Tell  'em  to  start,  Mammy." 

"Dey  done  start,  baby.  Bline  Billy's 
ginny  chorus  jes'  er  pot'rackin'  hard  es  dey 
kin,  'caze  Brer  Bull  Frog  so  full  er  jug-er- 
rum,  dat  he  start  'em  off  too  soon.  Cose  de 
gooses  turn  loose  soon  es  de  ginnies  give  de 
fus  cpotter-rack.' 

"Cap'n  Goat  tuk  an'  whisp'r  ter  Brer 
Turkey  Buzz'rd  ter  go  tell  Jim  Duck  fur  de 
Lawd  sake  ter  stop  de  fuss,  so  Jack  Donkey 
kin  speak,  'caze  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  wus  jes' 
er  speakin'  gran'  an'  gittin'  way  erhead;  an' 
Cap'n  Goat  settin'  up  dar  pullin'  his  whisk' rs 

170 


ELECTION  DAY 

an'  farely  chawin'  de  een's  off.  Fin'ly  Brer 
Turkey  Buzzard  whisper  ter  Jim  Puddle 
Duck,  but  Jim  Duck  sorter  deef  an'  he  think 
Brer  Buzzard  say  fur  his  f ambly  ter  go  he'p 
'long  de  fuss.  So  he  go,  he  do,  an'  geth'r 
'em  up,  an'  Miss  Screech  Owel's  fokes,  too, 
an'  dey  starts  sich  ernuth'r  holl'rin'  es  no 
body  ain'  nuv'r  heah  befo'  nur  sense.  Cap'n 
Goat  try  ter  shout  out  er  few  wurds,  but 
nobody  can'  heah  er  wurd,  so  Mist'r  Durham 
Cow  raise  his  beller  ter  try  ter  hope  him, 
but  dat  done  do  no  good.  Den  Mist'r  Tom 
Cat  see  ef  he  kin  git  in  er  wurd,  but  nobody 
wud  know  he  wus  talkin'  les'n  dey  see  his 
mouf  wurkin'. 

"Whoopee!  Jack  Donkey  wus  so  mad, 
he  hop  up  ter  holler,  too,  but  Mist'r  Wile  Cat 
hidin'  b'hime  'im,  grabs  'im  by  de  kiv'r  an' 
tell  'im  ter  set  still  tell  dey  holl'rs  derse'fs 

171 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

out.  He  say,  'Den  you  kin  speak  atter  Mis- 
t'r  Race  Hoss  gits  all  wo5  out.'  But  nor  suh- 
ree,  dat  'vice  ain'  suitin'  Jack  Donkey,  an' 
whut's  mo',  he  too  hard  haided  ter  lis'n 
enyhow,  so  he  up  an'  start  ter  holl'rin  his 
'He-haw,  he-haw.' 

"Whoopee!  dat  stop  de  fuss!  Somebody 
'gun  ter  holl'r :  TBline  Billy  ain'  nobody  but 
ole  Jack  Donkey!'  All  uv  'em  say,  'De 
idee  er  Jack  Donkey  puttin'  hisse'f  up  ter  be 
rul'r  er  de  beastes.' 

"Unk  Bell  Weth'r  shake  de  bell,  an'  all  de 
sheep  flocks  ter  Mist'r  Race  Hoss's  side. 

"Oh,  I  tell  yer  dar  wusn't  but  er  han'ful 
er  fokes  lef  on  Jack's  side." 

"Why  did  Jack  Donkey  pull  his  cov'r  off, 
Mammy?" 

"He  didn't  hatt'r  pull  his  kiv'r  off,  son, 
caze  Jack  call  out  his  own  name — can't 

172 


ELECTION  DAY 

you  tell  er  donkey  whin  you  heahs  him 
bray?" 

At  that  moment  a  band  and  shouts  of  peo 
ple  were  heard  coming  up  the  street. 

"Lawsee!  chillun!  Less  git  down  fum 
heah;  I  b'leef  in  m'  soul  Mist'r  Race  Hoss 
done  beat  dis  race  sho'  nuf." 


173 


X 

MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

"Look  at  that  big  old  grape  tree,  Mammy 
Phyllis,"  said  Mary  Van,  as  she  ran  beside 
the  little  boy  gathering  wild  flowers  in  the 
woods  back  of  the  house. 

'That's  not  a  grape  tree,  Mary  Van — it's 
a  grape  vine,"  corrected  Willis. 

"  'Tain't,  it's  a  tree,  isn't  it,  Mammy?' 

"It's  a  vine,"  he  emphasized  with  a  shake 
of  her  arm. 

"Make  him  stop,  he's  knocking  my  flow 


ers.'3 


"Dey  ain't  no  use  youall  'sputin'  'bout 
Miss  Wile  Grape.  Bofe  uv  yer's  got  hit 
right.  She  uster  be  Miss  Wile  Grape  Vine 
'fo'  she  take  an'  marry  ole  man  Holl'r  Tree. 

177 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Now  she  call  herse'f  Miss  Grape  Vine  Tree." 
"Where's  Old  Man  Holl'r  Tree?5 
"Yond'rs  him, — standin'  b'hime  Miss 
Wile  Grape.  Dey's  er  heap  er  men  fokes 
hidin'  b'hime  der  ole  ladies  in  dis  worl',  too ! 
Yas,  suh!  an'  dey's  er  heap  uv  'ooman  fokes 
dat  act  jes'  like  Miss  Wile  Grape  done  whin 
Mist'r  Wise  Oak  tell  her  long  time  ergo  ter 
stop  keepin'  comp'ny  wid  Holl'r  Tree. 
Mist'r  Wise  Oak  tell  her  Holl'r  Tree  ain' 
fit'n  fur  nuthin'  but  ter  hide  possums  in. 

"She  say,  1  doan  keer  ef  he  can't  do 
nuthin',  I  kin  make  er  livin'  fur  bofe  uv  us, 
but  I'm  jes'  bleeg  ter  have  sumbody  ter 
lean  on.' 

"He  say,  'Doan  git  er  long  s'  fas',  Wile 
Grape;  lay  low  fur  er  while,  an'  'twon' 
be  long  'fo'  young  Johnnie  Live  Oak'll  reach 
out  an'  ax  you  ter  lean  on  him.' 

178 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

"She  say,  cNo,  I  ain'  gwine  'ginst  Holl'r 
Tree  jes'  'caze  he's  gettin'  ole  an'  ball.' 

"Miss  Crab  Apple  tell  her,  'Dat's  right, 
grab  yer  fus5  chance,  'caze  yer  ain'  gwina  git 
no  mo'.'  Dat  hu't  po'  lit'le  Wile  Grape's 
feelin's,  an'  she  sorter  wilt  an'  creep  on  de 
groun'  tell  Miss  Bizzy  Bee  come  an'  tell  her 
Holl'r  Tree  say  ef  she  doan  come  on,  he 
gwine  tumble  ter  pieces.  Den  she  lif  up 
her  haid  an'  git  Bob  Win'  ter  take  her  up 
ter  Holl'r  Tree,  an'  she  bin  dar  ev'r  sense, 
tryin'  ter  hide  his  ole  ugly  se'f;  an'  de 
wurser  he  look,  de  mo'  purty  leaves  an' 
grapes  she  try  ter  kiv'r  ov'r  him." 

"What'd  Miss  Crab  Apple  say?"  Mary 
Van  wanted  to  hear  the  gossip. 

"Nobody  ain'  lis'n  ter  whut  she  say,  'caze 
she  so  sour  an'  mean,  ev'ybody  keep  out'n 
her  way." 

179 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Willis  darted  ahead.  "Look,  Mammy, 
look  at  the  persimmons!"  and  he  began  hurl 
ing  stones  towards  the  tree. 

"Nobody  doan  want  no  green  'simmons, 
boy." 

"They're  not  green,  they're  yellow,"  and 
another  stone  followed. 

"Let  dem  'simmons  'lone,  I  tell  yer — dey 
ain'  fit'n  fur  nothin',  doan  keer  ef  dey  is 
yaller.  De  fros'  got  ter  fall  on  'em  'fo' 
eb'n  possums'll  eat  'em."  She  added,  under 
her  breath,  "Like  dese  heah  sour  fokes  dat 
don't  nuv'r  git  sweet  tell  trub'le  hit  'em." 

"I  don't  care,  I'm  going  to  knock  'em  down 
anyway." 

"Ahah,  you  gwine  be  hard-haid'd  jes'  like 
'Simmon  Tree  wus  whin  he  wus  er  lit'le 
hard-haid'd  boy  tree,  an'  his  ma  tell  him  ter 
stop  sassyin'  old  fokes." 

180 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

"Who  did  he  sassy?"  Willis  looked  with 
indecision  at  the  stone  in  his  hand. 

"I  ain'  gwine  tell  yer  nuthin'  tell  yer 
th'ows  dat  rock  down  an'  gits  fur  nuf  fum 
'Simmon  Tree  ter  keep  him  fum  lis'nin'  ter 
whut  I  says,  'caze  he  'memb'rs  long  time  ergo 
whin  all  de  trees  wus  waitin'  ter  see  which 
one  gwine  have  de  fines'  crap  er  chillun. 
Early  hyah  in  de  spring,  'fo'  Jack  Fros'  go 
ter  see  Miss  White  Snow,  Dandy  Lion  come 
peepin'  out;  all  de  trees  bowin'  an'  swingin' 
derse'fs  erbout  axin'  de  news  'bout  der 
chillun.  Dandy  Lion  say,  'Don't  yer  heah 
lit'le  Weepin'  Will'r  cryin'  an'  holl'rin'  ov'r 
yond'r  now?'  Sho'  nuf  dar  she  wus  tellin' 
her  ma  'bout  lit'le  Maple  Tree  an'  all  uv 
'em  pushin'  her  out  f  us'  ter  see  ef  Jack  Fros' 
fixin'  ter  pack  his  trunk." 

The  stone  slid  noiselessly  from  Willis's 
181 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

hand,  while  Phyllis  led  the  way  beyond  the 
green  persimmons. 

"Did  Jack  Frost  bite  little  Willow 
Tree?" 

"He  don't  bite  'em  less'n  dey  gits  hard- 
haid'd  an'  sassy  him.  But  hyah  come  lit'le 
Aspin,  an'  lit'le  Sugar  Maple,  an'  dey  says 
Lit'le  'Simmon  Tree  an'  de  res'  uv  de  tree 
chillun  is  reddy  ter  come,  soon  es  ole  Unk' 
Sun  warm  up  de  room  fur  'em  er  lit'le. 
Bimeby,  all  uv  'em  gits  der  haids  an'  hands 
out,  'cep'n  Pine  Tree  chile.  Ev'ybody  axin' 
Miss  Vilet,  an'  Miss  Honey-suckle  an'  all  uv 
'em  wharbouts  Pine  Tree  chile  wus  at.  Pres- 
'ntly  ole  Tall  Pine  say,  he  do:  Mes'  'ten' 
ter  yer  own  biznes',  my  boy  know  whut  he 
doin'.  He  ain'  gwine  come  up  hyah  rippin' 
an'  tar'in'  'roun',  an'  den  hatt'r  stan'  dar  an' 
die  in  his  tracks.  Whin  enny  er  my  fambly 

182 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

comes  up  in  de  woods,  dey  comes  ter  stay/ 
sez  he:  'De  res'  er  you  all  goes  off  in  de 
winter  time,  but  me  an'  my  f  okes  stays  right 
hyah;  darfo',  I  done  lernt  my  chillun  ter  git 
er  good  start  'fo'  dey  comes  thu!' 

"I  tell  yer,  Pine  Tree  chile  wus  workin5 
hard  ter  tap  wat'r  so  he  kin  keep  up  wid  de 
res'  er  de  trees  atter  he  jines  de  woods." 

"How  can  he  tap  water?"  interrupted 
Willis. 

"Dey  taps  hit  wid  der  roots.  Sometimes 
er  pine  tree  whut  ain't  no  big'r'n  my  han'  is 
got  roots  fifteen  foots  long.  An'  I  tell  yer 
Pine  Tree  tellin'  de  truf e,  his  boy  know  der 
fambly  bleege  ter  have  wat'r  ter  live  on,  an5 
he  ain't  gwine  take  no  stan'  in  dis  woel  he 
know  he  can't  keep  up  wid.  De  trees  dey 
talks  'bout  him  mouty  bad  at  fus',  but  he 
don't  pay  no  'tenshun  ter  'em,  he  jes'  mine 

183 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

his  own  biznes',  an'  bimeby  he  git  big  'nuf 
ter  look  on  de  top  uv  all  'em." 

"Did  he  look  down  on  the  top  of  Mist'r 
Wise  Oak?"  broke  in  Willis. 

"Tall  Pine  so  high  an'  straight  hisse'f,  he 
ain't  thinkin'  'bout  de  top  er  nobody's  haid. 
He  know  Mist'r  Wise  Oak's  de  big'es'  man 
on  Tinker  Knob  an'  he  proud  ter  keep  com- 
p'ny  wid  him." 

"Who  was  running  against  Wise  Oak?" 
the  race  for  mayor  still  lingering  in  his  mind. 

"Well,  son5  dar  wus  er  heap  uv  'em  dat 
want  ter  git  in,  but  dey  can't  git  nobody  ter 
put  'em  up.  Lombody  Poplar  ax  Holl'r 
Tree  ter  put  him  up,  but  Holl'r  Tree  tell 
him  ter  look  at  hisse'f,  an'  see  how  fokes  'ud 
t'ar  him  ter  pieces.  He  say  he  dunno  how- 
cum. 

"Holl'r  Tree  say,  'Whut's  you  done  ter 
184 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

make  fokes  vote  fur  you?  You  doan  give 
no  fruit,  an'  you  too  stingy  ter  eb'n  stretch 
yer  arms  out  an3  make  shade  fur  ennybody.' 

"Lombody  say,  'Yer  doan  want  me  ter 
spile  m'  shape  does  yer?5 

"Holl'r  Tree  say,  'Dat's  hit.  You  thinks 
too  much  'bout  yer  own  se'f  ter  serve  de 
woods.'  But  I  ain'  got  time  ter  tell  yer  all 
whut  de  trees  talks  erbout.  I  jes'  wan  ter  tell 
yer  'bout  whut  Mist'r  bad  'Simmon  Tree  got. 

"Whin  he  wus  er  lit'le  boy  tree,  he  all  de 
time  bein'  hard-haided  an'  makin'  fusses 
twixt  de  trees  er  de  beastes  er  enybody  dat 
'ud  lis'n  ter  him.  His  ma  whoop  him  er 
heap  'bout  tellin'  tales,  an'  meddlin'  in 
fokes'  'fars,  but  ev'y  time  Bob  Win'  come 
thu  de  woods  'Simmon  Tree'd  lean  way 
down  ter  de  groun'  totin'  tales  ter  sumbody. 
One  time  Mist'r  Brindle  Cow  come  walkin' 

185 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

long  thu  de  woods,  huntin'  fur  some  nice 
lit'le  chaws  er  wile  flow'rs,  an'  'Simmon 
Tree  hol'r  fur  him  ter  come  set  down  an'  talk 
ter  him.  Mister  Brindle  say  he  ain'  got  no 
time  ter  fool  wid  chillun.  Wid  dat  'Sim 
mon  Tree  holl'r  back :  ' Yer  bet'r  take  time, 
'caze  ev'y  body  know  you  done  bin  runn'd 
out'n  de  pasturV  Whoopee!  Mist'r  Brin 
dle  Cow  give  er  jump  an'  Ian'  hisse'f  'pon  top 
er  dat  sassy  little  tree,  an'  I  tell  yer  he  nuv'r 
lef  dar  tell  he  had  tromp  'Simmon  Tree 
clean  down  ter  de  groun'.  Den  he  curl  his 
tail  in  de  air  an'  go  bellerin'  back  ter  de 
pastur'. 

1  'Simmon  Tree  sorter  raise  up  one  fing'r, 
den  he  lif  his  haid  up  er  lit'le  bit,  but  he 
hurt  so  bad  near  'bout  his  foots  dat  he  cry  an' 
beg  sumbody  ter  please  hope  him  up. 

"Jes'  den  Mist'r  Man  an'  his  lit'le  boy 
186 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

come  ridin'  thu  dar  on  Miss  Race  Hoss. 
Mist'r  Man  stop,  he  do,  an'  say,  'Look  at 
dat  nice  lit'le  'Simmon  Tree  sumbody  done 
tromp'd  down.  I'm  gwine  tie  hit  up  an' 
give  hit  er  chanct,'  sez  he.  So  him  an'  de 
lit'le  boy  liftes  hit  up,  an'  'Simmon  Tree 
holl'r,  'Oh!  Lawdy!  yer's  killin'  me,'  but  dey 
ties  him  up  an'  put  sticks  up  'ginst  him  ter 
keep  him  fum  fallin'  down,  an'  'tain'  long 
'fo'  de  hu't  part  wus  kur'd  tergeth'r  fine,  an', 
by  de  time  he  wus  grow'd  up,  nobody  cud 
tell  he  ev'r  wus  er  bad  lit'le  boy  dat  mos' 
got  kilt  by  his  badness.  Oh,  he  wus  er 
starchy  lookin'  tree  I  tell  yer.  Look  like  he 
wus  de  fines'  lookin'  uv  all  de  tree  chillun." 
"One  day  Bob  Win'  put  on  his  fine 
linnin  duster  an'  he  come  er  projeckin' 
an'  frolickin'  'roun'  de  Reed  gals  down  in  de 
Cane  Break.  Dey  has  er  heap  er  fun,  I  tell 

187 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

yer.  Bob  allus  crackin'  his  jokes  ter  'em  tell 
dey  mos'  die  fallin'  'ginst  one  nuth'r  laffin'. 
'  'Simmon  Tree  git  so  mad  'caze  he  can't 
fly  'roun'  an'  projeck  wid  de  gals  like  Bob, 
dat  he  'fuse  ter  speak  ter  Bob's  howdy. 
Bob  he  sorter  laf  an'  flutt'r  'Simmon  Tree's 
leaves  back'ards.  'Simmon  Tree  git  mad  es 
fire  den,  an'  he  tell  him  ter  cclar  out!' 

"He  say,  'You  does  er  heap  er  braggin' 
an'  blusterin'  in  dese  parts  Bob  Win',  but 
I  ain'  nuv'r  seed  nuthin'  in  yer  but  bad 
mann'rs.' 

"Bob  say,  'I  see  yer  done  forgit  de  les'n 
Brer  Brindle  Cow  learnt  yer  whin  you  wus 
lit'le.' 

"  'Simmon  Tree  say,  1  ain'  skeer'd  er  all 
de  Mist'r  Cows  in  de  pastur',  an'  you  th'ow'd 
in  ter  boot.  You  ain'  nuthin'  but  er  win' 
bag  ennyhow/ 

188 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

"Bob  Win'  say,  'Git  reddy,  suh,  we  gwine 
proof  whose  de  bes'  man  'fo'  sundown.' 

"Bob  go  ax  his  pa,  ole  man  Harricane, 
ter  loan  him  his  cyarpet  bag,  he  tell  him  he 
want  ter  take  sum  fightin'  close  'long  on  er 
trip  he  gwine  on  thu  de  woods.  Ole  Ker- 
lum-bang  Thunder  say  he  gwine  'long  ter 
see  de  fun.  Po'-Down  Rain  say  he  gwine 
too,  but  Bob  tell  'em  he  doan  want  nobody 
ter  hope  him. 

"Po'-Down  Rain  says  he  ain'  gwine  hope 
nobody,  he  say,  'Mist'r  Wise  Oak  sont  fur  me 
er  mont'  ergo,  an'  I  ain'  had  time  ter  go  yit, 
but  I'm  gwine  now,  'caze  I  wants  ter  see  you 
whin  you  tu'ns  yose'f  loose.' 

"Ole  Kerlum-bang  Thund'r  say,  CI  ain' 
gwine  hu't  nobody,  I'm  jes'  gwina  shoot  off 
er  few  fier  wurks,  an'  rat'le  'roun'  er  lit'le.' 

"Bob  see  he  can'  do  nuthin'  wid  'em,  so  he 
189 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

start  off.  Fus'  he  come  sorter  sof 
whrrrrrrrr,  whuuuuuuuu.  All  de  trees  lafs 
an'  howdy's  ter  one  nuth'r  'cep'  'Simmon 
Tree.  He  'fuse  ter  russ'le  so  much  es  er  leaf. 
Bob  come  Brrrrrrrrr,  sorter  strong  like,  de 
leaves  on  de  groun'  try  ter  hop  up  an'  cap'r 
wid  dem  on  de  trees,  an'  de  Reed  gals  wus 
jes'  laffin'  an'  th'owin'  derse'fs  erbout 
scand'lous.  'Simmon  Tree  ain'  flutt'r  er 
leaf,  'cep'n  whin  he  bleeg'd  ter.  Bob  Win' 
come  Brrrrrrrr,  Whrrrrrrrr,  Brrrrr,  Brrrrrrrr, 
Whrrrrrr,  Zuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzu- 
zzzzzzzzzz,  whoopee !  I  tell  yer  he's  comin' 
now!  He  rip  an'  t'ar,  he  do,  ringin'  an' 
twistin'  ev'ything  dat  gits  in  his  way.  Ole 
Kerlum-bang  Thunder  give  er  clap  an' 
tetch  off  er  fier  crack' r  dat  skeer  de  Cane 
Break  fokes  mouty  nigh  ter  death.  Po'- 
Down  Rain  come  right  'long  b'hime  him. 

190 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

He  wet  dem  woods  mouty  nigh  ter  flood 
times.  Ole  Kerlum-bang  drop  his  chunk  er 
fier  on  a  passel  er  big  fier-crackers,  an' — " 

"And  Roman  candles,  and  sky  rockets!" 
added  Willis. 

"Yas3  an'  de  fus'  thing  you  knows  Bob 
Win'  had  done  swep'  up  dat  groun'  b'fo'  him 
clean  es  yo'  ma's  parler  floor.  He  step  up 
ter  'Simmon  Tree  an'  ax  him  ef  he  got  enny- 
thing  ter  take  back. 

"  'Simmon  Tree  say,  1  done  tole  yer  I  ain' 
gwina  pass  wurds  wid  no  sich  er  blow  hard 
es  you  is/ 

"Bob  Win'  grab  him  'roun  'de  trunk,  he 
do,  an'  give  er  good  twis'  on  his  haid,  but  dat 
nuv'r  done  no  harm,  an'  'Simmon  Tree  hit 
him  back  es  good  es  he  sen'.  Bob  take  him 
by  de  arms  an'  twis'  wid  all  his  might,  but 
'Simmon  Tree  laff  in  his  face,  an'  twis'  back 

191 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

at  him.  Den  Bob  give  er  runnin'  jump  an' 
wrop  hisse'f  'long  'bout  'Simmon's  foots. 
Well,  suh,  dat  een'  de  fight.  Bob  hit  him  in 
de  weak  part,  an'  'Simmon  Tree  broke  an' 
come,  kerblum',  an'  splint' r'd  hisse'f  all  ov'r 
de  grounV 

"Mammy,  I  thought  you  said  Mister  Man 
cured  him,  so  he  was  bigger  and  stronger 
than  all  of  the  rest?"  Mary  Van  had  a  good 
memory  but  Phyllis  was  ever  ready  to  an 
swer  the  interruption. 

"Aha,  aha,  you  'members  dat  does  yer? 
An'  dat's  jes'  whut  he  wus — mo'  finer'n  all 
uv  'em  'cep'n  in  dat  weak  place  his  hard  haid 
make,  whin  he  wus  er  lit'le  bit'r  tree.  An' 
er  gal  er  boy" — she  looked  earnestly  into 
each  face — "kin  be  sassy  an'  hard-haid'd 
whin  dey's  lit'le,  an'  whin  dey  gits  grow'd 
up  an'  'gins  ter  rass'lin'  wid  triberlations,  de 

192 


MISTER  BAD  'SIMMON  TREE 

ve'y  fus'  fight  dey  gits  in,  dat  weak  bad, 
hard-haided  place  gwine  give  way  fus',  an' 
dey'll  splinter  all  ter  pieces  jes'  like  'Simmon 
Tree  done." 

"Can  Bob  Wind  whip  all  the  trees?' 

"He  sho5  kin,  son,  dat  is,  enny  uv  'em  dat's 
so  big'rty  an'  hard-haid'd  dey  can't  lis'n  ter 
nobody.  I  tell  yer  dar's  er  plenty  er  Bob 
Win's  ter  whoop  all  de  biggerty  hard-haids 
'mongst  de  men  fokes,  too." 

"I  bet  there  isn't  any  Bob  Wind  that  can 
whip  my  papa." 

"No,  my  Lawd,  dat  dey  ain't,"  she  laughed 
softly,  then  added:  "Howcum  you  reck'n 
yo'  pa  come  ter  be  sich  er  big  man?"  she 
stopped  to  hear  his  answer. 

"Cause  he's  my  papa,"  defended  the  child. 

"  'T^in't  no  sich  er  thing.  Plenty  fokes 
gots  papa's  'sides  you.  Hit's  'caze  he 

193 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

got  de  bignes'  ter  mine  whut  his  ole  lady  say 
ter  him  ev'y  onct  in  erwhile.  Come  'long, 
we  ain'  gwine  git  er  Lawd's  bit  er  dinn'r  ef 
we  doan  git  out  er  dese  hyah  woods." 


194 


XI 
BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

"Mammy,  less  go  up  to  Jim  Weed's  house, 
he's  going  to  give  me  one  of  his  buzzard 
eggs."  Willis  was  halfway  to  the  gate. 

"Come  back  hyah,  boy, — I  ain'  gwine 
stirry  er  step  f um  dis  hyah  tree  tell  I  churns 
dis  milk  fur  Kitty,  an'  ennyhow  yond'r  come 
comp'ny  ter  see  yer,"  she  nodded  towards 
Mary  Van,  who  was  tip-toeing  to  unfasten 
the  gate. 

"  'Tain't  anybody  but  Mary  Van,  and  she 
can  go,  too." 

"Where,  Willis?"  and  the  little  girl  ran 
past  him  to  the  joggling  board  *  near  Phyl 
lis;  "Put  me  up,  Mammy!" 

*  Joggling-board. — A  long,  springy  board  about  three 

197 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Phyllis  dropped  the  churn  top  in  place  and 
went  to  the  assistance  of  Mary  Van.  "Come 
on,  son,"  she  called  over  her  shoulder,  "an5 
let  dem  buzzard  aigs  hatch  right  whar  dey 
is,  'caze  de  Lawd  knows  dey's  in  de  right 


nesV 


"Jim  Weed's  er  nice  boy,"  resented 
Willis,  refusing  to  come. 

"He  ain'  nuthin'  but  po'  white  trash." 
She  stood  with  her  arms  akimbo,  waiting  to 
lift  him  beside  Mary  Van.  "Come  on,  an' 
hole  Ma'y  Van's  han'  so  bofe  uv  yer  kin 
stay  on  de  bo'rd  whin  yer  joggles." 

"He's  not  poor  white  trash,"  exclaimed 
Willis  hotly,  "he's  got  a  pigeon  house,  and 
a  dog  house,  and  a  bird  house,  and  a — " 

feet  from  the  ground,  made  fast  at  each  end,  and  so 
arranged  that  children  may  jump  up  and  down,  or  joggle 
on  it. 

198 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

"I  doan  keer  how  minny  houses  he  got,  an' 
I  doan  keer  how  much  money  he  got  neeth'r 
— he  ain'  nuthin'  in  dis  woel  but  po'  trash," 
she  announced  with  a  sweeping  bow,  then 
added  to  Mary  Van,  as  she  returned  to  the 
churn:  "Set  down  on  de  bo'rd,  honey,  tell 
Willis  git  reddy  ter  stan'  up  an'  jump  wid 
you.  He  bleege  ter  cool  off  er  while,  fus', 
'cose  he  know  trashy  fokes  got  ter  keep  on 
bein'  trashy,  jes'  like  he  know  dat  buzzard 
aig  bleege  ter  hatch  out  er  buzzard;  doan  keer 
ef  you  puts  hit  in  Lilly  Dove's  nes'  er  way 
up  yond'r  in  Jedge  Eagle's  nes5,  hit's  boun' 
ter  be  er  buzzard  dat  pips  dat  aig  shell." 

Swishing  the  dasher  up  and  down  in  the 
churn,  she  continued  addressing  herself  to 
Mary  Van. 

"Yas,  Lawd,  yer  or  ter  heah  ole  man  Tur 
key  Buzzard  tell  'bout  whin  his  boy,  Big 

199 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Eye,  turn  hisse'f  ter  er  eagle.  Big  Eye  tell 
his  pa  he  ti'ed  soshatin'  wid  de  low  down 
buzzards  dat  lives  on  Dead  Man's  Moun 
tain,  an'  he  done  make  up  his  min'  ter  greeze 
his  feath'rs  an'  shave  de  top  er  his  haid  like 
de  ball  eagle,  an'  move  ov'r  ter  Tinker  Knob 
whar  de  fus'  class  birds  lives  at." 

"Mammy,  I  thought  buzzards  were  bald 
anyhow,"  said  Willis  coming  a  step  or  two 
nearer. 

"  'Cose  dey  bin  ball  ev'r  sense  Big  Eye 
shave  his  haid. 

"His  pa  say,  cDoan  yer  know  soon  es  f  okes 
heahs  yer  name,  dey  kin  p'int  out  yer  fam- 
bly? 

"He  tell  his  pa  he  gwine  change  his  name 
ter  Mist'r  Mount'n  Fowel,  an'  tell  de  fokes 
he's  kin  ter  Jedge  Eagle's  fambly,  so  he  kin 
git  vit'd  ter  de  fine  parties. 

200 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

"His  pa  say,  Tokes  kin  tell  yo3  buzzard 
lope3  soon  es  you  starts  ter  dancin'.' 

"He  say  he  ain'  gwine  dance  no  'buzzard 
lope,'  dat  he  gwine  'cut  de  pigeon  wing.' 

"His  ma  ax  him,  'Whatchu  gwine  do  'bout 
marryin'  yo'  cousin  Ashy  Car' on  Crow?' 

"He  say  he  done  fergit  all  'bout  dat  ole 
black,  warty  head'd  crow,  dat  he  gwine  marry 
Miss  Tishy  Peaf  owel. 

"His  pa  tell  him  he  dunno  nuthin'  tall 
erbout  dis  new  fangled  way  er  doin',  dat  he 
allus  heahs  de  ole  fokes  say  birds  bett'r 
stick  ter  der  own  fe'th'r. 

"He  stan'  up  an'  sass  his  pa  scan'lous,  an' 
say  jes'  'caze  his  fambly  wus  buzzards,  dat 
ain'  no  rees'n  fur  him  ter  be  one.  He  say 
he  mo'  finer  lookin'  dan  dem.  In  fack,' 
sez  he,  I'm  jes'  like  dem  Eagle  boys,  an'  I'm 
gwine  pass  off  fur  one  de  fambly,  too.' 

201 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Ole  lady  Buzzard  cry  an5  beg  him  ter 
stay  at  home;  she  say  ef  he  jes'  make  er  man 
er  hisse'f,  he  kin  be  de  bigges'  buzzard  on 
Dead  Man. 

"He  pat  his  ma  on  de  back,  an'  laf  sorter 

gran'  like  an'  say,  '  'Ooman  fokes  ain'  got 

A  'nuf  sense  ter  'vise  in  men  fokes  'f ars.'     Den 

he  flop  his  wings  an'  come  flyin'  'zackly  like 

dem  Eagle  boys  flies. 

"Whin  de  birds  on  Tink'r  seed  him  comin', 
dey  'gun  ter  pass  jedgement  'bout  who  hit 
mout  be.  Sum  says  hit's  one,  sum  says  hit's 
ernuth'r,  but  all  uv  'em  says  one  thing  dey 
knows  fur  sartin  an'  sho, — 'Tain'  no  ole 
buzzard." 

Willis  had  come  slowly,  step  by  step,  until 
he  had  climbed  up  by  Mary  Van,  on  the  jog 
gling  board. 

"Big  Eye  Buzzard  sorter  circle  'roun' 
202 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

lookin'  fur  er  good  place  ter  light.  Bimeby, 
he  see  Doct'r  Pecker  wood  lancin'  er  bile  on 
one  dese  tall  Pine  trees,  an'  he  start  circlin' 
'roun5  de  Pine  tree.  Atter  while  heah  he 
come  an'  light  on  de  ve'y  top'es  lim'. 
Doct'r  Peckerwood  howdy  sorter  short  ter 
him,  'caze  he  bizzy  tryin'  ter  keep  de  Pine 
tree  fum  moanin'  ov'r  de  bile,  but  er  lit'le 
thing  like  dat  doan  both'r  Big  Eye,  he  up  an' 
spon',  I'm  feelin'  poly  m'se'f,  an'  I  stop  ter 
git  sum  med'cine,  an'  ax  Mist'r  Tall  Pine 
ef  he  kin  spar'  me  er  room.' 

"Doct'r  Peckerwood  ax  him  wharbouts  he 
hu't,  an'  wharbouts  he  come  fum,  an'  what's 
his  name,  an'  whut  he  bin  eatin'  ?  Yer  see 
Doct'r  Peckerwood  want  ter  git  sum  news 
'long  wid  de  symptoms. 

"Big  Eye  say,  I'm  tendin'  ter  sum  biznes' 
fur  m'  Unkle  Jedge  Eagle,  an'  I  ain'  eat 

203 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

nuthin'  sense  I  lef  Mill  Mount3 in,  whar  de 
Eagleses  lives  at/ 

"Doct'r  Peck'  r wood  say,  'Surt'n'ly  he  heah 
fokes  tell  'bout  de  great  Jedge  Eagle,  an' 
fur  him  ter  stay  right  dar  tell  he  git  good 
an'  well,  'caze  he  know  Mist'r  Pine  Tree  ain' 
nuv'r  had  one  er  de  Eagle  fambly  at  his 
house  b'fo'/ 

"Tall  Pine  say,  I'm  pow'ful  po'ly  m'sef, 
but  hit  'ud  make  me  proud  ef  yer  kin  make 
yerse'f  comf'bul,  an'  stay/ 

11  Oh,  I  tell  yer,  dem  Tree  Frogs  an'  Liz- 
zarts  'buse  Mist'r  Mount'in  Fowel  scan'lous. 
Dey  sez  he  keep  'em  runnin'  ev'y  which  er 
way  all  de  time,  an'  he  ain'  give  'em  so  much 
es  er  ole  par  er  shoes. 

"Doct'r  Peck'rwood  g'long  ov'r  ter  Miss 
Chicken  Hawkes's  ter  give  one  de  chillun  er 
dost  er  cast'r  oil,  an'  he  tell  'em  dat  de 

204 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

gentmun  dey  seed  wus  Mist'r  Mount'in 
Fowel,  an'  he  wus  kin  ter  Jedge  Eagle.  An' 
Polly  Parret  wus  spindin'  de  day  wid  Miss 
Chickin  Hawk  dat  day,  an'  whin  de  Doct'r 
g'long  off,  An'  Polly  make  Miss  Chicken 
Hawk  fix  up  er  nice  chickin  fur  her  ter  car'y 
up  ter  Big  Eye.  Miss  Chickin  Hawk  want 
one  er  her  gals  ter  take  de  chickin,  but  An' 
Polly  say  dey  too  young  ter  be  projickin' 
'roun'  whar  gentmuns  is  at,  but  hit  doan 
make  no  diffunce  'bout  er  ole  maid  like  her. 
Well,  she  car'd  de  chickin,  an'  she  brung 
back  de  news. — Big  Eye  stuff  her  so  full,  dat 
she  can'  hardly  fly  wid  hit.  She  come  ter 
Miss  Magpie's  house,  an'  I  tell  yer  dey  wus 
jes'  waitin'  fur  her.  Dey  runs  out  ter  meet 
her,  an'  she  bile  ov'r  'fo'  she  git  in  de  house, 
an'  'fo'  she  git  plum  th'u,  dem  Magpie  gals 
had  done  put  on  der  fine  close,  an'  wus  totin' 

205 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dat  news  'roun'  like  er  gun  wus  b'hime  'em. 
Fokes  sont  him  fine  vit'als  ter  eat,  an'  say 
soon  es  he  git  so  es  ter  be  erbout,  dey  gwine 
'vite  him  ter  some  parties. 

"All  dis  time,  Big  Eye  settin'  up  on  dat 
lim'  gorgin'  hisse'f  wid  der  fine  vit'als,  an' 
mos'  killin'  hisse'f  laffin'  'bout  how  fokes 
loves  ter  be  fool'd.  He  know  hits  'bout  time 
fur  him  ter  be  gittin'  well,  an'  he  set  an' 
studdy  how  he  gwine  git  de  money  ter  keep 
up  wid  de  hif alutin'  a'rs  dese  fine  fokes  puts 
on.  Long  'bout  dat  time,  Sis'  Cow's  cousin 
take  an'  die.  Dey  keeps  her  out  er  day  er 
two,  'caze  dey  fixin'  ter  have  er  fine  fun'al. 
Big  Eye  git  well  soon  es  he  heah  'bout  dat 
dead  cow.  He  flop  his  wings  an'  fly  back 
ter  Dead  Man's  Mount'in,  an'  tell  de  buz 
zards  he  got  er  fine  piece  er  meat  ter  sell 
'em  cheap.  Dey  barg'ins  right  den  an'  dar 

206 


"  BIMEBY  HE  GIT  AX  'b  TER  BE  ER  PAWL  B  !ARER  TER  ALL  UV  'EM." 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

fur  all  de  dead  an'mals  on  Tink'r,  an'  Big 
Eye  sign  de  corntrack  part,  ef  dey  promise 
dey  nuv'r  is  ter  come  on  Tink'r  ter  git  'em, 
'cep'n  on  de  dark  er  de  moon." 

"Let  'em  come  in  the  daytime,  Mammy, 
they  can't  see  in  the  dark,"  suggested  Willis. 

"Big  Eye  know  dey'd  run  him  clean  ofFn 
Tinker  Knob  ef  dem  fokes  see  he  git  his 
livin'  off'n  der  mis'ry.  Nex'  day  hyah  he 
come  flyin'  back  wid  er  big  bunch  er  fun'al 
flow'rs  wid  ribbin  streamers  flyin'  ev'y  which 
er  way.  Fokes  wint  ter  de  fun'al  jes'  ter 
see  de  flow'rs.  Ev'ybody  talkin'  'bout  de 
gran'nes'  er  Mist'r  Mount'in  Fowel5  an'  how 
he  'tend  all  de  berryin's,  doan  keer  who  'tis. 
An'  bimeby  he  git  ax'd  ter  be  er  pawl  b'arer 
ter  all  uv  'em. 

"Miss  Chickin  Hawk  give  er  party  long 
'bout  den,  an'  Big  Eye  he  act  mouty  nice  ter 

207 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

her  gals,  tell  Mist'r  Turkey  Gobl'r  'vite  him 
ter  his  house,  den  he  fergit  he  ev'r  heah  tell 
er  de  Chicken  Hawkeses.  He  runnin'  ev'y 
minite  ter  Mist'r  Turkey  Gobl'rs  house, 
makin'  like  he  wus  dancin'  'tendance  on 
Mandy  Gobl'r,  an'  all  he  wanter  do  is  ter 
git  er  peep  at  Tishy  Peafowel  dat  live  nex' 
do'.  Oh,  I  tell  yer  he  talk  purty  talk  ter 
Mandy,  but  he  cas'  dem  sheep  eyes  at  Tish. 
Bimeby,  Mandy,  she  pass  Big  Eye  de 
'quaintance  uv  Tishy  ov'r  de  fence,  an'  hit 
'tain't  long  'fo'  Big  Eye  gits  er  invite  ov'r  ter 
Majer  Peafowel's.  Whin  dat  hap'n,  hit 
look  like  he  done  fergit  wharbouts  Mandy 
live,  an'  po'  Mandy  she  look  out  de  wind'r 
an'  see  Big  Eye  an'  Tishy  sashain'  in  de  yard, 
lovin'  harder'n  er  mule  kin  kick. 

"Majer  Peafowel  say  he  want  Tishy  ter 
mar'y  Johnny  Squinch  Owel,  'caze  he's  de 

208 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

bigges'  lawyer  on  Tinker.  But  Tishy  say  he 
too  ugly  ter  look  at,  let  lone  ter  mar'y. 

"Johnny  Squinch  ain'  sayin'  nuthin',  he 
jes'  keepin'  er  lookout  fur  Big  Eye.  He  see 
Big  Eye  go  out  sumwhars  ev'y  dark  er  de 
moon,  an'  he  low  he  gwine  fol'r  'im  an'  see 
whut  he  do.  'Caze  yer  knows  de  dark'r  hit 
gits,  de  bet'rer  Squinch  Owels  kin  see." 

"How  can  he  see  in  the  dark?" 

"I  dunno  how  'tis,  Ma'y  Van,  but  de  Lawd 
fixes  owels  eyes  so  dey  kin  'ten'  ter  der  night 
biznes',  an'  whin  fokes  gits  ter  lovin'  an'  gits 
in  er  tight  place  like  Johnny  Squinch  wus, 
de  Lawd  fixes  der  eyes  so  dey  kin  see  th'u 
de  dark  an'  ev'y  which  er  way,  too.  One 
night  on  de  dark  er  de  moon,  Big  Eye  start 
out  ter  meet  de  buzzards.  He  got  f  o'  hosses, 
an'  two  cows,  an'  er  pass'l  er  birds.  Big 
Eye,  he  wus  jes'  er  takin'  in  de  money  I  tell 

209 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

yer.  He  can't  see  hit,  but  he  kin  feel  uv 
hit,  an5  he  know  dey  darsn't  ter  cheat  him. 
But  Johnny  Squinch  settin'  up  on  er  lim' 
jes'  ov'r  his  haid, — he  kin  count  de  money, 
yassuh,  ev'y  cent  uv  hit,  too.  Dey  ain'  no 
eyes  kin  see  like  Johnny  Squinch's,  'speshally 
whin  dey's  lovin'.  De  nex'  day,  Majer 
Peafowel  fly  up  ter  Pine  Tree  Holl'r  ter  see 
Mist'r  Mount'in  Fowel  'bout  whut  Johnny 
tell  him." 

"Mammy,  could  Major  Peafowl  fly  up  to 
the  top  of  Mister  Tall  Pine?"  asked  Mary 
Van  in  amazement. 

"Who  sed  he  fly  up  ter  de  top?  I  sed 
he  wint  up  ter  de  Pine  Tree  Holl'r.  De 
Majer  ain'  gwine  bus'  in  nobody's  room  les'n 
he  sen'  his  cyard  up  fus', — an'  how  you  know 
dey  ain'  got  one  dem  ellumvat'rs  like  de  new 
hotel  got?" 

210 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

"Oh!"  apologetically,  she  exclaimed. 

Phyllis  continued,  "Whin  de  Majer  ax 
him  'bout  las'  night's  biznes',  Big  Eye  look 
him  straight  in  de  eye  an'  bus'  out  laffin',  like 
hit  wus  de  bes'  joke  he  ev'r  heah.  He  say  he 
wush  ter  de  Lawd  he  had  er  know'd  Johnny 
Squinch  wus  dar,  'caze  he  nuv'r  wud  er  bin 
helt  up  by  dem  night  rob'rs.  He  tell  him, 
'cose  he  wus  countin'  money,  but  hit  wus  de 
money  de  Jedge  give  'im,  an'  he  say  he 
bleege  ter  count  hit  out  fur  de  rob'rs,  'caze 
dey  helt  er  pist'l  in  his  ribs. 

"De  Majer  brung  de  news  home  ter  Tishy, 
an'  she  say  Johnny  jes'  tellin'  tales  on  Moun- 
t'in  Fowel,  but  Johnny  tell  her  Mount'in 
Fowel  ain'  nuthin'  but  er  big  ole  low  down 
buzzard,  an'  he  gwine  proof  hit  ter  her. 

"De  Majer  say  ef  Mount'in  Fowel  dealin' 
in  car' on,  howcum  hit  dat  de  od'r  er  his 

211 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

biznes'  am'  stickin'  ter  him,  dat  he  allus 
mighty  sweet  wid  colone  whin  he  come  ter 
der  house. 

"Johnny  say  he  too  smart  ter  tech  hit 
hisse'f,  dat  he  set  way  off  fum  hit  an'  jes' 
tetches  de  money. 

"Majer  dunno  which  ter  b'leef.  Tishy 
car'in  on  so,  busin'  one  an'  lovin'  t'other, 
dat  he  make  up  his  mine  he  gwine  lay  er  trap 
an'  see  ef  Big  Eye  'ud  fall  in  hit.  Long 
'bout  dis  time,  Big  Eye  'gun  ter  long  fur  de 
vit'als  he  bin  rais'd  on,  an'  ev'y  time  he  set 
an5  sell  dem  dead  an'mals  ter  de  buzzards, 
his  mouf  dribble  so  dat  he  'termine  he  gwine 
tas'e  er  lit'le  ef  hit  kills  him.  He  done  hit 
too,  an'  whut's  mo'  hit  tas'e  so  good,  he  tas'e 
hit  ergin,  an'  whut's  mo'  en  dat,  he  slip  out 
ev'y  night  an'  take  er  good  bate  er  car'on. 
Fus'  thing  yer  know,  his  colone  nur  his  fine 

212 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

doin's  neeth'r  can'  hide  dat  sumthin'  wus 
pow'ful  wrong  wid  him.  Tishy  jes'  cry  an' 
cry,  an'  say  she  doan  see  nuthin'  wrong  wid 
him,  dat  hits  jes'  ev'ybody  jellus  uv  'im. 
Oh,  she  tuk  on  pow'ful.  Johnny  Squinch  an' 
Brer  Brindle  Cow  dey  confabs  er  while  jes 
'fo'  de  moon  git  dark  ergin,  an'  de  upshot  uv 
hit  wus  dat  Brer  Brindle  g'long  ter  de  fur 
een'  er  de  pastur'  an'  drap  hisse'f  down  like 
he  done  fell  dead.  Den  he  lay  dar.  Big 
Eye  seen  him  whin  he  fall,  an'  hit  look  like 
ter  him  dark  nuv'r  wud  come.  Johnny  an' 
de  Majer  settin'  b'hime  de  fence  waitin'  ter 
see  whut  gwine  hap'n." 

"What  did  happen,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 
asked  Mary  Van. 

"Hit  hap'n  dat  Big  Eye's  buzzard-side 
grow'd  fast'r  dan  his  hifalutin'-side,  fur  'fo' 
dark  come,  he  put  out  ter  git  some  nice  lit'le 

213 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

pickin's     offn     Brer     Brindle,     'fo'      de 
fun'l." 

"Did  Johnny  and  the  Major  catch  him?" 
asked  Willis. 

"Ketch  him,  boy?  You  jes'  orter  seed 
Big  Eye  whin  Brer  Brindle  rise  up  an'  say : 
lcVar  out]  an'  he  cl'ar  clean  out  too,  fur 
nobody  ain'  nuv'r  seed  er  buzzard  on  Tinker 
Knob  sense. 

"Lawsee,  Johnny  Squinch's  lawyer  sense 
done  hit.  He  say3  fjes  watch  whar  de  car5 on 
lays  at,  ef  you  tryin'  ter  ketch  er  buzzard.' : 
Then  turning  a  warning  look  to  Willis, 
"An'  you  'mem'r  no  buzzard  ev'r  turn  hisse'f 
ter  er  Eagle  in  dis  woel;  an'  you  let  dat 
Weed  boy  an'  his  buzzard  aigs  erlone,  yer 
heahme?" 

"Yes'm,"  he  answered  meekly,  then  for 
getful  of  Mary  Van,  he  jumped  suddenly 

214 


BIG  EYE  BUZZARD 

from  the  joggling  board  and  asked,  "What 
didTishy  do?" 

Mary  Van  fell  off.  Phyllis  hurried  to  see 
if  she  was  hurt,  and  replied,  as  she  put  her 
dress  to  rights,  "Tishy  was  upsot,  jes'  like 
Ma'y  Van  is  now,  'cep'in  mo'  so." 


XII 
MISS  LILLY  DOVE 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

"Mammy,  look  at  Tishy  Peafowl  in  Mary 
Van's  yard."  Willis  pointed  across  the 
street  to  a  peacock  in  full  expression  of  his 
feathered  pride. 

Phyllis  went  to  the  window  and  ex 
claimed,  "You  sho'ly  ain'  callin'  Majer  Pea 
fowl,  dat  ugly  ole  Tishy?" 

"You  said  Tishy  was  fine  and  pretty,"  re 
minded  Mary  Van. 

"She  wus,  tell  Mist'r  Mount'in  Fowel 
tu'n  out  ter  be  nobody  but  er  ole  low  down 
buzzard.  I  tell  yer  dat  gal  act  so  scand'lous 
dat  all  her  purty  feath'rs  start  ter  drappin' 
out,  'caze  she  act  so  ugly  on  de  inside,  dey 

219 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

wusn't  nuthin'  ter  hole  de  purty  on  de  out 
side." 

"Did  all  her  pretty  feathers  drop  out  sho' 
nuf  ?"  asked  the  little  girl,  much  concerned. 

"Dey  ain'  all  drap  out  yit,  'caze  she  ain' 
loss  all  her  inside  purty  yit." 

"What's  Major  Peafowel  doing?" 

"He  jes'  stan'in'  up  dar  watchin'  dat  fier 
on  Tinker,  an'  wushin'  hit  'ud  bu'n  up  Lilly 
Dove's  house." 

Immediately  the  children  became  inter 
ested  in  watching  the  forest  fire  which  en 
veloped  a  part  of  Tinker  Knob. 

"Did  Lilly's  house  burn  down?"  asked 
Mary  Van  with  feeling. 

"Bu'n  up  er  holy  Ghos'  bird's  house?"  ex 
claimed  Phyllis.  "Why,  gal,  dat's  de  bird 
de  Holy  Ghos'  sen's,  an'  exsen's  'pon,  whin- 
somev'r  hit  come  down  'pon  de  earf !  Jes' 

220 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

like  Jay  burds  is  Satan's  burds, — fokes  says 
dey  goes  ter  de  Bad  Place  ev'y  Friday  night, 
an'  I  'speck  dey  sees  er  heap  er  fokes  useter 
live  heah  too." 

"Mammy,  I'm  skeered  God  don't  know 
the  mountain's  on  fire,"  said  Willis  anx 
iously. 

"Go  off,  boy,  de  Lawd  ain'  needin'  you  ter 
hope  him  'ten'  ter  His  biznes' — now  ef  dat 
wus  er  Jay  burd,  hit  wud  er  bin  burnt  clean 
up,  but  bein's  hit's  er  Holy  Ghos'  dove,  dat 
hope  ole  man  Noah  ter  Ian'  de  Ark,  de  Lawd 
ain'  gwine  let  her  swing  er  feath'r.  Dis 
hyah  ain'  de  fus'  time  Lilly  Dove  put  her 
trus'  in  de  Lawd.  Dat  hit  'tain't,"  as  she 
took  from  the  floor  the  book  of  Robin  Red 
breast,  "an'  dis  hyah  Cock  Robin,"  placing 
her  finger  on  the  picture,  "is  de  ve'y  man  dat 
start  all  de  fracus." 

221 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Didn't  Robin  like  Lilly  Dove?"  Willis 
left  the  window  to  look  at  the  book. 

"Him  an'  Ginny  Wren  near  'bout  foolish 
'bout  Lilly  Dove — dat's  howcum  Tishy 
Peafowel  ter  tu'n  'ginst  Lilly  like  she  done." 

Mary  Van  went  over  to  Willis,  and  to 
gether  they  spread  the  book  upon  the  floor 
where  the  gay-colored  pictures  of  the  birds 
accentuated  the  feathered  characters  of 
Phyllis's  mind. 

"Tishy  Peafowel  nev'r  wud  er  got  so 
mean,  ef  An'  Polly  Parrit  had  er  mine  her 
own  biznes', — 'stid  er  dat,  An'  Polly  ax 
Cock  Robin  whut  ail  Tishy  feath'rs.  Robin 
tell  her  Tishy  ain'  got  no  sense,  dat  ef  she 
had  much  sense  es  Lilly  Dove  got,  she  nuv'r 
wud  er  bin  in  de  fix  she  in  now. — Whoopee ! 
dat  start  de  fracus. 

"An'  Polly  start  right  fum  dar  an'  spen' 

222 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

de  day  wid  ev'rybody  in  de  woods — she 
mixin'  de  'pinions  fokes  got  er  Tishy  an' 
Lilly.  Atter  she  git  bustin'  full  er  news, 
hyah  she  come  ter  spen'  de  day  wid  Tishy. 
Whin  ole  Lady  Peaf owel  see  An'  Polly  take 
off  her  bonnet  ter  spen'  de  day,  she  run  an' 
git  out  de  bes'  china,  an'  she  tell  de  cook  ter 
have  fried  chick'n  fur  din'r  'caze  she  know 
An'  Polly  gwine  tell  all  erbout  whut  dey  eats 
ter  de  nex'  place  she  go." 

She  paused  to  lift  a  table  near  the  win 
dow,  when  Willis  called  from  the  floor : 

"Mammy,  don't  let  Aunt  Polly  have  fried 
chicken  for  dinner." 

"You  sho'ly  done  los'  yo'  senses,  boy. 
Ole  lady  Peaf  owel  jes'  es  skeered  er  An' 
Polly  es  yo'  ma  is  er  Miss  Tilly  Totenews. 
— 'Cose  she  gwine  have  fried  chick'n  an' 
mo'  b'sides, — an'  she  doan  let  none  de 

223 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

chillun  do  no  talkin'  whar  An'  Polly's  at 
neeth'r,"  she  giggled. 

The  children  needed  no  further  descrip 
tion  of  Aunt  Polly,  for  they  knew  a  visit 
from  Miss  Tilly  meant  their  banishment,  as 
well  as  the  strictest  injunction  to  yea,  yea, 
nay,  nay,  whenever  they  chanced  to  meet 
her. 

"Yas,  suh/'  she  unfolded  her  quilt  pieces 
and  prepared  to  assort  them  on  the  table, 
"An'  Polly  talk  er  nuf  wurds  ter  Tishy  dat 
day  ter  set  her  plum  on  fier  wid  madnes'. 
Yer  see  mos'  all  Tishy' s  purty  feath'rs  wus 
out,  an'  dem  whut's  lef  wus  right  loose  an' 
straggly,  an'  dat  make  Tishy  wusser.  Yer 
see  trubble  done  make  Tishy  so  sour  an' 
mean  dat  she  hate  ev'rybody  dat's  purty'r'n 
her — an'  she  hate  Lilly  wusser  en  all  uv  'em, 
'caze  Lilly  wus  so  kine,  an'  treat  fokes  so 

224 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

sweet,  dat  ev'rybody  jes'  nachelly  love  Lilly. 

"Long  'bout  dis  time,  de  church  fixin'  ter 
have  er  sociable.  Dey  gwine  have  speakin' 
pieces,  an'  singin'  jes'  like  fokes  has.  John 
Mockin'bird,  he  de  haid  man.  'Cose  John 
wus  lovin'  Lilly,  an'  'cose  he  want  Lilly  ter 
sing  er  chune  er  do  sump'in,  but  Lilly  say 
she  bleege  ter  him  fur  axin'  her,  but  de  Lawd 
nuv'r  make  her  ter  sing  like  Laura  Nightin 
gale,  an'  'tain'  no  use  er  her  tryin'  ter  do  hit. 
I  tell  yer  Lilly  had  er  heap  er  sense — an'  er 
heap  er  beaux,  too;  dar  wus  John  Mockin' 
bird,  an'  Tom  Jay  Bird,  an'  Bob  White,  an' 
mo'  b'sides.  But  she  ain'  keer  nuthin'  fur 
none  uv  'em  'cep'in'  John." 

"Mammy,  did  Lilly  Dove  know  Tom  Jay 
Bird  went  to  the  Bad  Place  every  Friday 
night?"  Willis  went  over  and  stood  by  the 
table. 

225 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

c  'Cose  she  heah  tell  erbout  hit,  'caze  An' 
Polly  Parrit  done  spen'  de  day  wid  her  on 
de  subjec',  but  Lilly,  she  sot  right  still  tell 
An'  Polly  git  th'u  busin'  him,  an'  callin'  him 
low  down  gambl'r — den  Lilly  she  up  an' 
ax,  'An'  Polly  does  you  recoleck  whin  you 
wus  shet  up  in  dat  cage  up  at  Mist'r  Man's 
house*?'  An'  Polly  say  she  nuv'r  is  ter  fer- 
git  hit.  Lilly  say,  'Does  yer  'memb'r  whin 
Tom  Jay  ust'r  fotch  yer  all  dem  fat  wurms4?' 
An'  Polly  say  she  know  Tom's  er  good  feller, 
but  she  jes'  tellin'  whut  jokes  sex. 

"Yas,  suh,  Tom  wus  er  good  feller,  but  we 
got  ter  git  back  ter  de  sociable,  er  dem  f  okes 
git  ti'ed  er  waitin'." 

Willis's  foot  accidentally  upset  the  quilt 
basket.  "Take  yer  foot  out'n  Mammy's 
bask't,  an'  g'long  back  an'  look  at  de  pictur's 
wid  Ma'y  Van." 

226 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

"No,  I  won't — I'm  tired  sitting  down  on 
the  floor." 

"Dat's  jes'  de  way  Tishy  Peafowel  talk 
whin  her  ma  beg  her  ter  stay  at  home  wid 
dem  loose  straggly  feath'rs  er  he'rn,  but 
Tishy  say,  'No,  I  won't,'  jes'  like  you  talks 
ter  me  sometimes.  Jes'  den  one  her  purty 
feath'rs  drap  out." 

"Well,  Mammy,  I  do  want  to  stand  up," 
he  added  apologetically,  "and  we've  looked 
at  all  the  pictures  in  that  book." 

She  found  another  book  of  birds  which  she 
opened  on  the  table. 

"Hyah,  stan'  up  an'  look  at  dese, — dar's 
Tishy  de  ve'y  f  us'  one." 

Mary  Van  was  soon  beside  him : 

"Ain't  Tishy  pretty,  Mammy  Phyllis?" 
she  said. 

"She  sho'  wus  sumthin'  ter  look  at  'fo'  Big 
227 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Eye  Buzzard  come  erlong.  An'  Tishy  wus 
er  good  gal,  too,  but  she  nuv'r  had  nuf 
'ligion  ter  stan'  trubble." 

"Did  her  mama  let  her  go  down  town?" 

"Tishy  done  got  so  mean,  her  ma  can'  do 
nuthin'  wid  her.  She  tell  her  ma  she  gwine 
ter  see  how  John  Mockin'bird  gittin'  'long 
wid  de  sociable."  She  added  with  a  confi 
dential  air:  "Tishy  want  ter  act  in  de  so 
ciable,  an'  she  wan  ter  give  John  er  chanct  ter 
ax  her. 

"Oh,  I  tell  yer  John  have  er  heap  er 
trubble  wid  de  diffunt  kine  er  fokes  ov'r  dat 
sociable.  Dar  wus  de  Sparrer  fambly  dat 
yer  can'  keep  out  no  way  yer  fixes  hit,  dey'll 
eb'n  git  ter  parties  whar  nobody  don't  want 
'em  an'  den  act  like  dey  wus  de  bigges'  fokes 
ax'd." 

"How,  Mammy?"  Mary  Van  thought  of 
228 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

her  own  birthday  party  where  she  had  ex 
cluded  Jim  Weed. 

"Oh,  dey  does  like  Miss  Bizzy  Sparrer 
done  Lilly  Dove  whin  she  give  er  party  one 
time.  Miss  Bizzy  meet  Lilly  in  de  poplar 
tree  an'  say : 

"  1  heah  yer  'bout  ter  give  er  party,  Miss 
Lilly,  an'  I  jes'  wan  ter  ax  yer  ef  we  got  eny- 
thing  yer  kin  use?' 

"Lilly,  she  thank  her  an'  tu'n  de  subjec', 
but  Bizzy  she  git  back  on  ter  hit  ergin  an' 
say: 

"  'Ain't  dey  sumpin'  I  kin  do?  Lemme 
hope  yer.' 

"Lilly  say  she  doan  need  nobody  ter  do 
nuthin',  but  she  kin  come  ter  de  party  ef 
she's  er  mine  ter. 

"An'  Bizzy  come,  too,  an'  whut's  mo',  her 
bruth'r  hafter  come  ter  bring  her,  an'  whut's 

229 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

mo'en  dat,  her  sist'r  can't  stay  at  home  by 
herse'f.  Yas,  Lawd,  an'  'fo'  enybody  know 
how  dey  got  dar,  de  place  wus  right  full  er 
Sparrers." 

"Mammy,  did  John  ask  Tishy  to  act  in  the 
sociable?"  began  Willis. 

"I'm  gwine  tell  yer  now  'bout  whin  she 
start  ter  see  John,  she  come  up  wid  An'  Polly. 
She  ax  An'  Polly  ef  she  know  wharbouts 
John  is.  An'  Polly  say,  John  gone  clean  ov'r 
ter  de  Peaks  er  Otter  ter  git  some  flow'rs  fer 
Lilly  ter  w'ar  ter  de  sociable. 

"Tishy  say,  'Yas3  I  speck  Lilly  Dove 
gwine  be  tryin'  ter  do  all  de  singin'  an'  de 
speakin',  too.' 

"An'  Polly  say,  '  'Cose  John  gwine  sing 
wid  her  ter  keep  fokes  fum  laffin'.'  Tishy 
git  so  mad  'caze  she  can't  see  John  dat  she 
flounce  herse'f  roun'  right  in  An'  Polly's  face 

230 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

an'  strut  herse'f  home, — an'  her  purty  feath- 
'rs  drap  out  all  'long  de  road.  Dat  night  at 
de  sociable,  Lilly,  she  come  wid  John,  an'  I 
tell  yer,  man,  she  look  purty,  too,  wid  dem 
gran'  flow'rs  John  fotch  her.  John  he  so 
proud  he  mos'  bustin'.  He  take  an'  strut  all 
roun'  wid  Lilly  hangin'  on  his  arm,  an'  all  de 
fokes  talkin'  'bout  how  fine  dey  looks. 
Bimeby,  hyah  come  Tishy  wid  Jack  Sparrer 
an—" 

"Wasn't  Jack  Sparrow  too  little  for  Tishy 
Peafowel?"  appealed  Mary  Van. 

'  'Cose  he  wus,  but  yer  see  Tishy  done  loss 
her  chusin',  an'  she  got  ter  take  whut  she  kin 
git. — Jack  Sparrer  doan  wanter  go  wid  her 
neeth'r,  but  yer  see  Tishy  wus  so  fus'  class 
dat  Jack  ax  her,  so  he  kin  mix  wid  de  hif a- 
lutin'  fokes.  Dem  sparrers  er  sight,  I  tell 
yer,"  she  mused. 

231 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Go  on,  Mammy,"  Willis  shook  the 
book. 

"Well,  whin  Lilly  see  Tishy  look  so  piti 
ful  long  side  er  Jack  Sparrer,  she  go  right 
straight  an'  walk  'long  side  er  her,  'caze 
ev'ybody  laffin'  at  Tishy. 

"Lilly  ain'  talk  ter  Tishy  long,  'f  o'  she  fine 
out  Tishy  want  ter  sing  er  chune.  Lilly  she 
go  an'  tell  John  : 

cYer  mus'  ax  Tishy  ter  sing/ 

"John  say,  Tm  too  bizzy  ter  fool  wid 
Tishy/ 

"Lilly  coo  sof  an'  ax',  'Please,  John/ 

"John  say,  'All  right/ 

"Oh,  I  tell  yer,  John  sing  ev'rybody's 
chune  wid  'em.  He  so  happy  he  can'  keep 
his  mouf  shet.  Jes'  den  he  'nounce  dat  Miss 
Tishy  Peafowel  gwine  sing.  Ev'rybody 
feel  like  shettin'  der  eyes  whin  dat  straggly 

232 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

fe'th'r  Tishy  walk  up  ter  de  pianny.    She 
'nounce,  she  do : 

f  'I  ain'  sot  er  chune  sense  I  got  well,  but 
ef  youall's  bleege  ter  hyah  me,  I'll  do  m' 
besY 

"Mussy  gracious!  de  fokes  hatt'r  hole  on 
ter  der  ye'rs, — " 

"Why,  Mammy?" 

At  that  moment,  the  peafowl  in  Mary 
Van's  yard  uttered  a  piercing  screech. 

"Dat's  de  rees'n,"  she  answered.  "Pea- 
fowel's  bin  singin'  jes'  dat  erway  sense  den. 
Whoopee,  whin  Tishy  see  fokes  stoppin'  up 
der  ye'rs,  she  fling  herse'f  'roun'  an'  grab 
John  Mockin'bird  by  de  arm  an'  walk  clean 
out'n  de  meetin'  house." 

"Was  her  feath'rs  dropping  out,  too4?"  re 
minded  Mary  Van. 

"Dat  dey  wus,  she  scatter  'em  ev'ywhar  she 

233 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

go.  Whin  she  git  John  out  in  de  dark,  she 
flounce  'roun'  an'  say :  'You  ain'  sich  er  big 
sumbody,  John  Mockin'bird!  Lilly  Dove 
say  she  jes'  'spise  you  an'  yo'  ugly  ole  flow'rs 
— dat  she  wush  ter  de  Lawd  she  had  er  nice 
gent'mun  like  Mist'r  Jack  Sparrer  ter  car'y 
her  home  ternight.  She  say  she  jes'  plum 
sick  er  you.'  John  look  at  Tishy,  tryin'  ter 
make  out  whut  she  say,  den  he  sorter  puff 
out  his  chist  an'  strut  back. in  de  meetin'." 

"Didn't  he  know  Tishy  was  mean  an 
bad?"  asked  Willis. 

"How  he  gwine  know,  son?  Tishy  wus 
mouty  fus'  class  'fo'  Big  Eye  come  eroun'. 
Howsomev'r,  whin  him  an'  Tishy  go  back  in 
de  meetin'  house,  Tishy  had  done  los'  ev'y 
one  er  her  purty  feath'rs,  an'  she  wusn't 
nuthin'  but  er  ugly  ole  brown  Peahen! — 
an'  she  bin  ugly  ev'r  sense,  'caze  she  ain' 

234 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

nuv'r  got  nuf  purty  on  de  inside,  ter  make 
no  mo'  purty  on  de  outside  ergin." 

"Did  Jack  Sparrow  take  Lilly  Dove 
home?"  asked  Mary  Van. 

"Yas,  mam,  'caze  John  ax  him  ter,  an' 
John  ax  Lilly  ter  give  him  dem  flow'rs,  too. 
Lilly  dunno  whut  ter  make  whin  she  see  John 
take  an'  th'ow  'em  out'n  de  wind'r — she  mos' 
die!" 

"Did  she  cry,  Mammy?"  Mary  Van  asked 
sympathetically. 

"She  nuv'r  cry  den,  but  she  sho'  bus'  her 
eyes  op'n  whin  she  git  home  by  herse'f. 
Po'  Lilly,  she  stay  er  prayin'  an'  er  cryin' 
all  night  long."  Phyllis's  voice  trembled  in 
sympathy,  and  unconsciously  the  little  girl 
and  boy  found  themselves  on  either  side 
of  her,  so  close  as  to  prevent  the  progress 
of  quilt  making.  She  laid  the  unfinished 

235 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

square  on  the  table,  and  placed  an  arm  about 
each. 

:<Yas,  chillun,  Lilly  fix  her  eyes  on  de 
Lawd.  Dat's  de  diffunce  b'twixt  her  an' 
Tishy — yer  see,  trubble  make  some  fokes 
purtier  on  de  inside  'n  ev'r.  Lilly  dunno 
whut  ail  John,  but  she  do  know  dat  she 
holdin'  on  ter  de  Lawd." 

"Tell  God  about  Lilly  quick,  Mammy." 
Willis  fidgeted. 

"Ain'  I  done  tole  yer  de  Lawd  doan  need 
fokes  ter  hope  Him?" 

"But  we  don't  want  Lilly  to  cry  any 
more,"  urged  Mary  Van. 

"She  washin'  her  eyes  in  cole  water  now, 
'caze  An'  Polly  knockin'  at  de  do'.  An' 
Polly  see  de  cur'us  doin's  at  de  sociable  las' 
night,  an'  she  can'  wait  ter  eat  her  brekfus' 
'fo'  she  go  up  ter  Lilly's  house.  Whin  An' 

236 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

Polly  see  po'  Lilly's  sweet  lit'le  face  all 
swool  up,  de  Lawd  tu'n  her  h'art  ter  good- 
nes'  an'  she  kiss  Lilly  an'  say,  'I  wants  yer 
ter  go  out  ter  de  Water  Falls,  an'  hope  er 
po5  lit'le  bird  Doct'r  Peck'rwood  say  some 
bad  boy  hit  wid  er  rock.' 

"Lilly  she  tie  her  bonnet  on,  an'  fly  out 
ter  de  Falls  'fo'  yer  knows  hit.  Den  An' 
Polly  she  come  on  ter  Tishy  Peafowels  an' 
ax  Tishy,  cWhut  in  de  name  er  de  Lawd  ail 
Lilly  Dove  an'  John  Mockin'bird*?' 

"Tish  thow  her  head  back  an'  laf  one  dese 
mean  sorter  laf s  an'  say :  CI  done  hit,  I  wus 
jes'  ti'ed  uv  ev'ybody  runnin'  atter  dat 
mealy  mouf  Lilly  Dove,  an'  I  jes'  'termine 
ter  part  her  an'  John — 'caze  John  orter  be 
my  beau,  ennyhow.' 

"An'  Polly  mos'  fall  out'n  de  tree  whin 
Tishy  say  dat.  Yas,  suh,  she  jes'  fly  up  ter 

237 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

John's  quick  es  she  kin.  John,  he  walkin' 
up  an'  down  wid  his  han's  und'r  his  coat 
tails,  mumblin'  an'  grumblin'  ter  hisse'f,  an' 
hit  wus  right  smart  time  'fo'  he  see  An'  Polly 
settin'  dar. 

"An5  Polly,  she  say:  'John  Mockin'bird, 
Tishy  Peaf owel  done  tole  me  dat  low  down 
sto'y  she  tole  you  'ginst  Lilly  Dove.' 

"John,  he  look  at  An'  Polly  like  he  can't 
make  out  whut  she  say. 

"An'  Polly  say,  'Hit's  de  trufe,— Tishy 
make  up  ev'r  wurd  she  tell  you,  an'  po'  lit'le 
Lilly  bin  cryin'  her  eyes  out  all  night.' 

"John  bus'  out  moanin',  'Whut  mus'  I  do?' 

"She  tell  'im:  'Lilly  out  at  de  Water 
Falls  now.' 

"But  John  he  feerd  ter  go  whar  Lilly  at. 
So  An'  Polly,  she  fly  wid  him  tell  dey  sights 
de  Falls,  den  she  lef  'im.  John,  he  fly  er 

238 


MISS  LILLY  DOVE 

lit'le,  an'  hop  er  lit'le  tell  he  git  clost  nuf 
ter  see  Lilly  wrop'n  up  de  po'  lit'le  bird's 
leg,  an'  cooin'  so  sof  ter  hit — den  John,  he 
fly  on  de  tree,  an'  cry  out  er  chune  ter  Lilly 
dat  mos'  broke  her  h'art, — he  sing: 

"  'I  ain'  good  nuf  fur  Lilly  Dove, 
But  she  de  onlies'  one  I  love/ 

"Lilly  she  stoop  low  ov'r  de  lit'le  bird  so 
John  can't  see  whar  she  cryin'  at.  An'  John 
he  fly  down  an'  tell  her  he  gwine  jump  in 
de  Falls  ef  she  'fuse  ter  keep  comp'ny  wid 
him — but  Lawd,  whin  he  git  clost  ernuf  ter 
see  dem  tears  er  Lilly's,  he  th'ows  his  arms 
'roun'  her  an' — but  you  all  chillun  ain'  got 
no  biznes'  knowin'  no  mo'  en  dat." 

"Please,  Mammy,  tell  us  if  John  jumped 
in  the  falls,"  sympathetically  begged  Willis, 
eager  to  lose  none  of  the  details. 

239 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Phyllis  chuckled,  "No,  my  Lawd,  dey  got 
marr'ed  instid,  an'  went  ter  housekeepin'  in 
dat  tall  pine  stump  ov'r  yond'r  on  Tinker 
Knob." 


240 


XIII 
MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

"What  made  that  old  hornet  sting  me 
for,  Mammy  Phyllis?"  demanded  Mary 
Van,  regarding  tearfully  her  little  red  swell 
ing  hand. 

"  'Caze,  honey,"  replied  Phyllis,  seating 
herself  in  a  chair  beside  the  hammock,  "he 
thought  you  had  done  jine  Cap'n  Yall'r 
Jackit's  army  ter  fight  'ginst  him." 

"What  they  going  to  fight  about?" 
Willis  began  to  fidget  to  see  the  fight. 

"Set  still,  boy,  you'll  th'ow  dis  gal  clean 
out'n  de  hammock."  She  readjusted  both 
of  them,  and  resumed  her  seat.  "Dey 
fightin'  ov'r  dat  ole  pan  er  dirty  cid'r  set- 
tin'  out  yond'r  b'hime  de  ash-hopp'r.  Yer 

243 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

see  Cap'n  Yall'r  Jackit  an5  Cap'n  Hornit, 
bofe  uv'  em,  jes'  er  gwine  back'ards  an'  fur'- 
ards  'mongst  de  varmints,  tryin'  ter  see  which 
one  kin  git  de  mo'es  fokes  ter  jine  der  side. 
Miss  Queen  Bee  tell  'em,  hit's  de  bizzy  sea 
son  in  de  honey  biznes'  an'  she  ain'  got  no 
time  ter  fool  wid  none  uv  'em.  Cap'n  Yall'r 
Jackit  sorter  stop  and  study,  he  do,  den  he 
g'long  down  de  big  road  tell  he  come  up 
wid  Mist'r  Grab-All  Spid'r.  He  pass  howdy 
wid  'im,  den  he  'nounce : 

'  'Mist'r  Grab-Ail,  'cose  you  gwine  jine  de 
Yall'r  Jackits'  side,  ain't  yer? 

"Grab-Ail  Spid'r  sort'r  op'n  an'  shet  his 
claws  an'  th'ow  his  'bark'r  quid  on  de  uth'r 
side  his  jaw  an'  'spon': 

'  'Nor,  I'm  jes'  er  plain  ole  biznes'  man, 
— I  ain'  got  no  fightin'  sense  like  dese  rip 
snortin',  hifalutin'  solger  boys.  I'll  jes' 

244 


MIST'R  GRAB-ALL,  'COSE  YOU  GWINE  JINE  DE  YALL  'R  JACKI'lS 
SIDE,  AIN  *T  YER  ?  " 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

stan5  off  an5  watch  de  battle,  but,'  sez  he, 
'I  hopes  you'll  whup  de  fight,  Cap'n  Yall'r 
Jackit,  'pon  de  wurd  uv  er  gent'mun  I  does, 
'caze  dat  pan  er  cid'r's  wuth  er  tussle,  an' 
youse  de  man  ter  make  hit.' 

"Yall'r  Jackit  sorter  swell  hisse'f  out  er 
lit'le  big'r,  an'  Mist'r  Grab-All  roll  hisse'f 
up  in  er  ball  like  he  bin  sleep  er  hundred 
ye'rs,  an'  ain'  nuv'r  heah  tell  uv  er  Yall'r 
Jackit  in  his  life. 

"Bimeby,  hyah  come  Cap'n  Hornit  zoonin' 
down  de  big  road.  Old  Grab-Ail  Spid'r 
onrap  hisse'f  an'  start  ter  stretchin'  his 
legs  out,  an'  chawin'  on  his  'bark'r  quid 
ergin. 

"Cap'n  Hornit  say,  'Name  er  de  Lawd, 
Mist'r  Grab- All,  is  you  bin  sleep  th'u  all  dis 
fracus  dat's  'bout  ter  bus'  loose?' 

"Grab-All  spit  his  quid  outj  an'  gap  loud 
245 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

cr  time  er  two,  an'  say,  'Whut  you  torkin' 
'bout,  Cap'n  Hawnit?' 

"Hawnit  zoon  erbout,  an'  holl'r,  cWake 
up!'  sez  he,  'Wake  up,  I  wants  yer  ter  hope 
me  wipe  dem  Yall'r  Jackits  off'n  creation.' 

"Grab-All  set  up  an'  take  notice,  like  he 
gwine  jine  de  hawnit's  army  dat  minit,  den 
he  sorter  crumble  hisse'f  down,  an'  low, 
'Lawdy,  Lawdy,  ef  I  jes'  wus  er  solger  like 
you  is,  Cap'n  Hawnit,  I'd  be  de  bigges'  man 
in  de  woel.'  Whut's  de  use  er  you  axin' 
enybody  ter  hope  you  fight? — Why  you  kin 
whup  out  dem  Yall'r  Jackits  'fo'  de  time 
start  ter  commence!'  Den  he  laf  an'  slap 
hisse'f  on  de  knee,  an'  say,  1  wush  ter  de 
Lawd  I  wus  er  fightin'  man  like  you  is, 
Cap'n!' 

"Cap'n  Hawnit  swell  his  chist  out  tell  he 
look  like  he  gwine  bus'  dem  solger  butt'ns 

246 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

off  sho',  an'  Grab- All  roll  hisse'f  up  ergin 
like  he  done  gone  back  ter  sleep  er  nuth'r 
hund'rd  ye'rs. 

"Soon  es  Cap'n  Hawnif  g'long  off,  Grab- 
All  onrap  hisse'f  ergin,  an'  swing  er  long  on 
de  lim'  er  de  trees  by  his  spid'r  web." 

"Mammy,  why  didn't  he  walk  on  the 
ground?" 

"  'Caze,  son,  he  nuv'r  want  ter  make  no 
tracks,  so  fokes  kin  fine  out  his  biznes'. 
— Nor,  suh,  he  swing  hisse'f  by  dat  spid'r 
web  er  his'n  tell  he  come  ter  Mist'r  Inch 
Wurm's  house.  Inch  Wurm's  old  lady 
say,  'Yond'r  come  dat  old  Grab- All 
Spid'r,  yer  bett'r  take  keer  how  yer  fools 
wid  'im/ 

"Jes'  den  Grab-Ail  th'ow  his  hat  on  de 
flo'  an'  bow  low  down  ter  Miss  Inch  Wurm 
an'  sez  he,  1  jes'  come  ter  tell  yo'  ole  man 

247 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

whar  dar's  er  sight  er  money  waitin'  fur 
somebody  ter  come  'long  an'  pick  up.' 

"Ole  lady  Inch  Wurm  sort'r  take  notice, 
she  do,  an'  ax  'im  ter  pass  de  news  erlong. 
Grab-Ail  say:  'Nor,  you  jes'  set  right  still 
tell  me  an'  yo'  ole  man  come  back  an'  fetch 
yer  er  hat  full  er  money.' 

"Old  lady  Inch  Wurm  git  up  an'  g'long 
down  town,  an'  start  ter  spindin'  dat  money 
right  den.  Soon  es  she  done  out'n  de  way, 
Grab- All  tell  Inch  Wurm  'bout  de  cid'r 
in  de  pan  b'hime  de  ash-hopp'r;  an',  sez  he, 
'we'll  make  de  Hawnits  an'  Yall'r  Jackits 
fight  derse'fs  ter  death,  den  me  an'  you'll 
'vide  de  cid'r,  dat  is  ef  you  kin  mea'jer  off 
how  much  dey  is  in  de  pan  'thout  lettin' 
fokes  know  whut  you  doin'.' 

"Yer  see  Grab-All  sich  er  big  biznes'  man 
dat  he  bleege  ter  know  how  big  de  pan  is, 

248 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

an'  how  much's  in  dar,  down  ter  de  ve'y 
drap.  So  Inch  Wurm  he  put  on  his  ole  close 
an3  went  er  crawlin'  off  ter  mea'jer  de  cid'r, 
an5  'tain'  long  'fo'  hyah  he  come  back  ergin 
wid  de  news  fur  Grab-Ail.  Grab-All  tell 
'im:  'You  done  wurk  fine,  an5  you  done 
wurk  quick, — in  fack,'  sez  he,  'you  done  yo' 
wurk  s'  good  I  gwine  fix  yer,  so  you  doan 
hatt'r  do  no  mo'  wurk  long  es  you  live.' 
Den  he  laf  in  his  sleeve. 

"Mammy,  don't  let  Grab-Ail  hurt  Inch 
Wurm,"  begged  Mary  Van. 

"Dat  can't  be  hop'd,  honey,  Inch  Wurm 
know  too  much  'bout  Grab-All's  biznes',  an' 
Grab-All  got  ter  shet  his  mouf  some  way, 
— He  take  an'  spin  er  teenchy-weenchy 
lit'le  web,  right  whar  Inch  Wurm  got  ter 
git  out  at.  Inch  Wurm,  he  start  off,  f eelin' 
pow'ful  fine  he  do,  an'  'fo'  yer  knows  hit, 

249 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

dar  he  wus  all  tangle  up  in  Grab-All's  web. 
Grab- All,  he  run  'roun'  like  he  tryin'  ter 
hope  'im  out,  but  he  jes'  spinnin'  de  web 
tight'r  so  Inch  Wurm  nuv'r  is  ter  git  out  no 
mo'. — He  got  ter  starve  ter  death,  'caze 
he's  in  Grab-All's  way,  an'  Grab-Ail  gwine 
see  nobody  doan  come  'roun'  dar  ter 
hope  'im  neeth'r.  'Cose  he  doan  mine  Miss 
Lightnin'  Bug  passin'  de  time  er  night  wid 
him,  'caze  she  can'  do  nuthin'  mo'en  ter 
bright'n  'im  up  er  lit'le, — but  he  keep  his  eye 
on  her,  too. 

"Nex'  day,  de  fight  commence !  Suh,  I  tell 
yer  hit  wus  de  pepperes'  fight  yer  ev'r  seed. 
Dem  Hawnits  fly  inter  dem  Yall'r  Jackits, 
tell  yer  can't  see  de  groun'  fur  de  dead  Jack- 
its;  but  hyah  come  de  Jackits  back  at  de 
Hawnits!  Lawdee!  dey  come  wid  der 
foots,  an'  der  ban's,  an'  der  haids  all  tcr- 

250 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

geth'r. — Yas,  suh,  dey  come  er  buttin'  an'  er 
bitin'  an'  er  stingin'  mouty  nigh  at  de  same 
time !  Yas,  my  Lawd,  de  dead  Jackits  wus 
kiv'r'd  up  wid  de  dead  Hawnits!  Oh!  I 
tell  yer  dem  varmints  fit  like  sho'  nuf  war 
times ! 

"Whin  bofe  sides  'ud  stop  ter  sorter  blow 
er  lit'le,  an'  think  mebbe  dey  kin  confab 
de  res'  er  de  fight  out, — ole  Grab- All' d 
come  fus'  ter  de  Hawnits,  an'  den  ter  de 
Jackits,  an'  tell  'em  dey  boun'  ter  whup  out 
de  nex'  jump.  Whin  he  see  de  Hawnits 
gittin'  de  wus  er  de  charge,  he  run  tell  'em 
wharbouts  ter  hit  de  Jackits.  Whin  he  see 
too  minny  er  de  Jackits  gittin'  kilt,  he  run 
tell  dem  wharbouts  ter  cripple  de  Hawnits. 
He  keep  on  gwine  fus'  ter  one,  den  ter  de 
uth'r  twell  dey  wusn't  er  han'  full  lef  on 
bofe  sides." 

251 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Why  didn't  they  turn  in  and  beat  old 
Mister  Grab-Ail?"  Willis  bristled. 

'  'Gaze  bof e  uv  'em  think  Grab- All  wus  on 
der  side.  Grab-Ail  ain'  lef  no  tracks  ter 
pint  out  whar  he  bin — nor,  suh,  he  so  full 
er  dat  spid'r  web  biznes'  er  his'n  dat  he  kin 
swing  hisse'f  fum  ennywhar, — an'  fo'  yer 
kin  kitch  'im,  he  done  swing  'roun'  in  er- 
nuth'r  place  onti'ly." 

"Captain  Yellow  Jacket's  side  beat  the 
fight,  didn't  they,  Mammy?"  Mary  Van  de 
sired  the  hornets  vanquished. 

"No,  they  didn't,"  contradicted  Willis,  "a 
hornet  can  beat  a  Yellow  Jacket  every 
time!" 

"Jes'  hole  on  dar!"  Phyllis  steadied  the 
hammock.  "I'm  de  onlies'  one  dat  seen  who 
'twas  whup'd." 

"I  want  Captain  Yellow  Jacket's  side  to 
252 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

kill  all  of  the  hornets,"  whimpered  Mary 
Van. 

"But  they  can't,"  persisted  Willis 
vehemently. 

Once  more  Phyllis  held  the  hammock. 
"You  dunno  nuthin'  tall  erbout  hit,  suh," 
as  she  saw  the  little  girl  about  to  cry, 
"Hawnits  is  got  mo'  pow'r  en  Jackits  is  got, 
but  er  Jackit  is  mo'  smart'r  en  er  Hawnit. 
I  'speck  ef  Grab- All  had  er  belt  his  mouf 
out'n  de  fracus,  de  Jackits  wud  er  outfit 
de  Hawnits,  but  es  hit  wus,  Grab-Ail  keep 
'em  fightin'  tell  dem  whut  wusn't  kilt  wus 
hit  so  hard  dat  hit  'twan'  long  'fo'  de  ve'y 
las'  one  uv  'em  died.  Atter  dat  hap'n  Grab- 
All,  he  got  de  cid'r ! 

"He  spin  erlong  b'ildin'  on  some  houses 
he  fixin'  ter  rent  tell  bimeby  Mist'r  Blue 
Bot'le  Fly  an'  his  fambly  come  erlong. 

253 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

Mist'r  Blue  Bot'le  whisper  ter  his  chillun 
ter  give  Grab-Ail  plenty  er  road.  I  tell  yer 
Grab- All  swing  hisse'f  down,  he  do,  an'  ax 
Mist'r  Blue  Bot'le  whut  ail  his  fambly  dat 
dey  look  so  po'ly. 

"Blue  Bot'le  say:  'I  ain'  nuv'r  see  sich  er 
time  in  m'  life !  De  rich  f okes  done  stretch 
wire  ov'r  de  vit'als  s'tight  dat  dey  ain' 
nuthin'  fur  de  po'  flies  ter  do  'cep'n  ter 
starve.' 

"Grab-All  say,  'Dat's  de  trufe,  Brer  Blue 
Bot'le,  an'  I  feels  s'  sorry  fur  yer  dat  I'm 
gwine  give  you  an'  yo'  fambly  all  de  vit'als 
yer  kin  eat/ 

"Bot'le  Fly  so  glad  he  gwine  git  sumthin' 
fur  nuthin',  dat  he  fergit  ter  'member  how 
raskilly  Grab-All  wus,  an'  whin  he  do  'mem 
ber  'bout  hit,  he  think  he  gwine  keep  his  eye 
op'n  an'  git  de  fus'  lick.  He  jes'  nachelly 

254 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

can't  let  dat  free  vit'als  git  way  fum  'im, 
doan  keer  how  low  down  Grab-All  wus.  So 
him  an'  his  f  ambly  foll'r  Grab- All  ter  de  pan 
er  cider,  an'  dey  so  hongry,  dey  f  ergits  'bout 
ev'ythin'  'cep'n  eatin'.  Grab-Ail  set  up  on 
de  ash-hopp'r  an'  mos'  kill  hisse'f  laffin'." 

"Why,  Mammy?' 

"  'Caze,  son,  he  jes'  fatnin'  dem  flies  ter 
kill  'em  off  like  yo'  ma  do  chickins.  Whin 
de  flies  'gun  ter  git  fat,  he  spin  er  teenchy, 
lit'le  web,  an'  whin  dey  git  kotch'd,  he  run 
an'  make  like  he  try  in'  ter  onhitch  'em,  but 
he  tie  'em  up  wusser,  an'  sting  'em  tell  dey 
dies.  Den  he  take  'em  ter  one  dem  houses 
an'  sto'  'em  erway." 

"Did  he  kill  all  of  Mister  Blue  Bottle's 
family?'  asked  Mary  Van. 

"Dey  wusn't  er  one  uv  'em  lef,  honey, 
not  eb'n  Miss  Blue  Bot'le's  baby  gal,  an' 

255 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

nobody  dunno  de  money  Grab-Ail  make  on 
de  fly  trade  dat  winter  nuth'r." 

"Mammy  Phyllis,  are  all  spiders  kin  to 
Grab-All?" 

"Dey's  all  kin,  but  dey  ain't  all  got  de 
same  name,  'caze  yer  see  all  uv  'em  ain't  got 
de  same  slicknes'  ter  git  way  wid  fokes  like 
Grab-Ail  do,"  she  explained. 

"Did  Mister  Grab-All  give  the  other 
spiders  some  of  Mister  Blue  Bottle's  chil 
dren  to  eat?"  asked  Mary  Van,  by  way  of 
suggestive  generosity. 

"Nor,  suh,  Grab- All  say  he  ain'  got  no 
pockit  book  kin — he  say  he  need  all  he  got, 
an'  mo'  b'sides."  Then  she  added:  "But 
dey  doan  need  Grab-All  ter  give  'em  nuthin' 
'caze  none  uv  'em  wus  po' — all  uv  'em  got 
nuf  spid'r  web  in  'em  ter  swing  erlong  'dout 
trackin'  up  der  biznes'." 

256 


MISTER  GRAB-ALL  SPIDER 

She  reached  out  to  steady  the  hammock 
as  Willis  scrambled  out. 

"Mammy,"  he  exclaimed,  "Captain  Yel 
low  Jacket  and  Captain  Hornet  didn't  get 
a  thing." 

"Nor,  suh,"  said  Phyllis,  lifting  Mary  Van 
to  the  ground,  "an'  nobody  nev'r  do  git 
nuthin'  dat  keeps  der  senses  in  der  fistes 
'stid  er  der  haids — Ketch  Ma'y  Van  by  de 
uth'r  han'  an'  come  on." 


257 


XIV 
MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

"Whut  yer  givin'  dat  boy,  Zeek? — I  boun' 
hit  'tain'  nuthin'  fur  no  good." 

Phyllis  started  for  the  garden  gate,  where 
a  suspicious  conference  was  going  on  be 
tween  Willis  and  the  gardener.  "Howcum 
yer  can't  op'n  yer  haid  whin  fokes  speaks 
ter  yer?"  Seeing  his  unwillingness  to  re 
ply,  she  threw  her  apron  partly  over  her 
head  and  quickened  her  pace. 

"Me  an'  de  lit'le  man  wus  jes5  fixin'  ter 
make  yer  'quainted  wid  er  present  I  fotch 
him  fum  ov'r  t'oth'r  side  de  creek,"  ex 
plained  Zeek. 

"Whar  de  present?"  she  interrupted  with 
261 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

annoyance,  as  she  perceived  he  was  trying  to 
tease  her. 

She  took  the  little  boy  by  the  hand  and 
started  for  the  house. 

"Wait,  Mammy,"  he  begged,  pulling 
back;  "Unk  Zeek,  please  gimme  the  snakes." 

"Give  you  whut,  in  de  name  er  de  Lawd!" 
exclaimed  Phyllis. 

"Jes'  two  lit'le  gyarters  I  kotch  an'  put 
in  er  bottle  fur  de  chile,"  Zeek  explained 
again. 

"Yas,"  returned  Phyllis  angrily,  "you 
kotch  dem  snakes  fur  nuthin'  but  ter  tu'n 
"em  loose  'bout  my  foots,  soon  es  you  gits 
me  in  er  tight  place — I  knows  yer.  Yer 
orter  be  'shame  er  yo'se'f, — an'  callin'  yo'se'f 
er  deac'n,  too!" 

Zeek  threw  his  head  back  and  gave  a  roar 
ing  laugh.  "Whew!"  he  finished,  "Sis' 

262 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

Phyllis,  you  is  de  slickes'  'ooman  I  ev'r  seed. 
How  yer  know  I  gwine  tu'n  dem  gyrters 
loose  on  yer?"  and  Zeek  laughed  again  until 
he  held  to  the  gate  for  support. 

Phyllis  turned  without  deigning  a  reply. 

"Hole  on,  Sis'  Phyllis,"  Zeek  ran  and 
caught  her  by  the  arm,  "hole  on,  Sist'r, — 
you  ain'  mad  sho'  nuf,  is  yer?" 

"Tu'n  me  loose,  Zeekiel,"  she  demanded 
furiously. 

Instead,  he  caught  the  other  arm  also.  "I 
ain'  gwine  let  yer  go  mad  like  yer  is,"  then 
consiliatingly,  "yer  knows  dem  gyart'rs 
snakes  can't  bite  nobody — I  jes'  wanter  see 
yer  dance  er  lit'le,"  and  again  he  laughed, 
as  the  picture  presented  itself. 

"I  gwine  call  Miss  Lucy,  ef  yer  doan  take 
yer  han's  off'n  me,"  stolidly  demanded 
Phyllis. 

263 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"All  right,"  he  said  holding  on  as  tightly 
as  ever,  "I  jes'  want  yer  ter  wait  hyah  tell 
I  goes  down  ter  de  orchard  an'  gets  yer  er 
hat  full  er  dem  big  peaches."  This  argu 
ment  lessened  the  rigidity  of  her  face. 
"Dey's  de  fines'  thing  ter  swage  mis'ry  er 
de  speeret  yer  ev'r  seed."  She  allowed  him 
to  shove  her  gently  to  the  ground  under  the 
lilac  bushes.  "Hyah,  set  right  hyah  tell  I 
comes  back."  Seeing  the  old  woman  partly 
restored  to  good  humor,  he  slammed  the 
garden  gate  behind  him  and  went  down  the 
path,  singing. 

"Come  on,  Mammy,  less  us  get  my  lit'le 
green  snakes  Unk  Zeek  brought  me,"  Willis 
started  back  to  the  garden. 

"Come  back  hyah,  boy,"  as  she  caught  him 
by  the  skirt  of  his  blouse,  "dem  snakes 
wusn't  brung  hyah  fur  you,  Zeek  jes'  makin' 

264 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

er  'cat's  paw5  er  you.  He  'ceivin'  you  jes' 
like  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  done  Miss  Eve." 

"No,  he  ain't,  Unk  Zeek  loves  me,"  de 
fended  the  boy. 

"Dat's  jes'  whut  Miss  Eve  think  whin  de 
sarpint  temp'  her." 

"What's  er  sarpint?"  He  still  pulled 
against  her. 

"Er  sarpint  is  er  snake,  honey — dat's  jes' 
his  scriptur'  name — come  on  an'  set  in 
Mammy's  lap  an'  she'll  tell  yer  'bout  how 
ole  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  fix  hisse'f  up  so  fine, 
way  back  yonder  time,  an'  come  struttin' 
roun'  Miss  Eve.  He  nuv'r  come  crawlin' 
like  snakes  does  dese  days  neeth'r,  nor,  suh, 
he  come  walkin'  plum  on  de  een'  er  his  tail ; 
an'  he  look  s'  fine  an'  starchy  dat — " 

"Didn't  he  have  to  hop?"  Willis 
scrambled  into  her  lap. 

265 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Nor,  de  Lawd  fix  hit  so  he  doan  hatt'r 
hop.  I'm  tellin'  'zackly  de  trufe, — he  come 
walkin'  on  de  een'  er  his  tail,"  she  insisted, 
"an  he  look  s'  fine  an3  gran',  like  some  er 
de  fine  men  folks,  dat  Miss  Eve  cudn't  see 
how  black  wid  sin  he  wus." 

c<You  are  not  black  with  sin,"  and  he 
pulled  the  wrinkled  face  to  him  and  kissed 
it. 

"Bless  my  baby,"  looking  into  his  face  as 
she  hugged  him,  "dis  hyah  black  on 
Mammy's  face  is  nig'r  black,"  she  squeezed 
him  again,  "but  sin  black,  like  Mr.  Rattle 
snake  got,  stays  in  fokeses  hearts  whar  hits 
hard  ter  see,  whin  hit's  kiv'r'd  up  wid  fine 
man'rs  an'  er  slick  tongue. 

"So  whin  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  come  bowin' 
an  scrapin'  ter  Miss  Eve  wid  dat  beav'r  hat 
on,  an'  dat  walkin'  stick  whirlin'  roun'  in  his 

266 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

han',  she  git  so  airish  tryin'  ter  th'ow  off 
man'rs  like  his'n,  dat  whin  he  tell  her  ter 
eat  dat  pis'n  apple,  she  et  hit  'dout  knowin' 
whut  she  doin'.  Howsumev'r,  whin  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake  but'n  up  his  long  tail  coat 
sort'r  keerles'  like,  an'  strut  hisse'f  off,  Miss 
Eve,  she  'gun  ter  feel  de  mis'ry  er  dat  pis'n 
apple." 

"Did  her  mama  give  her  some  castor 
oil?"  Willis  sympathized  with  Miss  Eve. 

"No,  my  Lawd,  she  sot  dar  an'  holl'r  tell 
Adam  come  an'  ax  her  whut  ail  'er.  She 
start  ter  laffin'  she  did,  an'  say:  1  jes'  callin' 
you  ter  eat  one  dem  fine  meller  apples  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake  fotch'  me!' 

"Did  Mist'r  Adam  eat  it?"  asked  Willis 
with  much  concern. 

"Who  gwine  hind'r  him  fum  eatin'  hit? 
An'  de  Eveses  is  bin  pis'nin'  de  Adamses  ev'r 

267 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

sense — you  'memb'r  whut  Mammy  tell  yer, 
an'  look  out  fur  'em." 

"Why  didn't  Mist'r  Adam  kill  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake?"  he  resented. 

f  'Caze  his  own  sin  done  make  him  er 
coward,  dat's  de  trufe! — Whin  er  man  do 
mean  an'  low  life  tricks  hisse'f,  he  ain'  got 
de  face  ter  stan'  up  an'  whup  nobody  fur 
doin'  de  same  thing;  but  Adam  didn't 
hatt'r  whup  de  Sarpint  'caze  de  Lawd  knock 
'im  flat  'pon  de  groun'  an'  tromp  on  'im, 
an'  tell  'im  he  got  ter  crawl  de  res'  er  his 
life,  ter  keep  up  wid  his  low  down  ways," 

Mary  Van's  voice  sounded  from  the  gate, 
"I  can't  open  it." 

Willis  sprang  to  her  assistance,  but  Phyllis 
caught  him:  "Will  yer  run  right  straight 
back,  ef  Mammy  let  yer  onfas'n  de  gate?" 

The  promise  was  given,  and  in  a  moment 
268 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

Willis  returned  with :  "Mammy,  less  show 
Mary  Van  m'  two  lit'le  green  snakes."  He 
was  off  in  a  second,  but  Phyllis  again  de 
tained  him. 

"Nummine  'bout  dem  gyrt'r  snakes, — I 
ain'  got  start'd  ter  tellin'  'bout  Mist'r  Rattle 
snake  yit.  Come  on  hyah  Ma'y  Van,  an' 
set  down  on  de  grass,  an'  Mammy  gwine 
spread  out  her  ap'on  fur  you  ter  set  on,  'caze 
she  hatt'r  hole  dis  wiggly  boy  in  her  lap." 

"I  want  to  see  Willis's  snakes,"  demurred 
the  little  girl. 

Phyllis  looked  thoughtfully  a  moment, 
then  throwing  her  hands  up  suddenly,  "I 
wond'r  is  enybody  got  de  news  'bout  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake's  toofake?  You  ain'  heah 
nuthin'  is  yer,  Ma'y  Van?" 

Mary  Van  shook  her  head  in  the  negative. 

"Who  you  shakin'  dat  haid  at,  gal?" 
269 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"No,  ma'm/'  quickly  corrected  the  child. 

"De  las'  time  de  snake  doct'r  come  by 
hyah,  he  wus  huntin'  fur  some  yerbs  ter  put 
in  Mist'r  Rattlesnake's  toof,"  continued  the 
old  woman  in  an  interested  tone.  "Miss 
Eve,  she  tell  de  doct'r  ter  g'long  an'  git  de 
same  kind  er  yerbs  he  give  fur  rattlesnake 
bite,  dat  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  jes'  got  mad  an' 
bite  his  own  se'f,  an'  dat  whut  ail  his  toof." 

"Who  made  him  mad?"  Mary  Van  knelt 
on  the  edge  of  the  apron. 

"De  Lawd  make  him  mad  whin  He  tell 
him  he  can't  git  no  mo'  free  vit'als  out'n 
Eden.  De  Lawd  say,  'Nor,  suh,  yer  got  ter 
wurk,  an'  sweat,  an'  crawl  fur  vit'als  de  res' 
er  yo'  life — an'  you  an'  Miss  Eve  gwine  fight 
one  nuth'r  tell  one  er  yer  gits  kilt." 

"When  are  they  going  to  fight?"  asked 
Willis  eagerly. 

270 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

"Dey  fit  dat  ve'y  day;  an'  whin  hit  git  too 
hot  fur  Miss  Eve,  she  take  an'  jump  on  top  er 
ole  man  Elerphant's  back  'fo'  Mist'r  Rattle 
snake  cud  git  her.  He  try  ter  crope  up  ole 
man  Elerphant's  legs,  but  Elerphant  keep  his 
foots  wurkin'  s'  much,  an'  his  snout  flyin' 
roun'  s'  tur'bul,  dat  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  hatt'r 
keep  out'n  de  way.  Miss  Eve  she  set  up 
an'  laf  at  him,  an'  dat  make  Mist'r  Rattle 
snake  so  mad,  he  rip  an'  tar',  an'  fome  at 
de  mouf,  an'  mos'  turn  hisse'f  wrong  side 
out' aids  tryin'  ter  hop  up  an'  bite  Miss  Eve. 
Miss  Eve  she  th'ow  herse'f  eroun'  laffin'  an' 
say:  £Ynan,  ynan,'  at  'im,  tell  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake  git  so  mad  he  jes'  up,  an'  bite 
his  own  se'f." 

"Did  it  kill  him?"  Mary  Van  crawled 
further  on  the  apron  and  sat  beside  the  little 
boy. 

271 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Hit  wud  er  kilt  him  ef  he  hadn't  er 
run'd  an'  got  dem  rattlesnake  yerbs  mouty 
quick, — an'  dat's  howcum  Miss  Eveses' 
chilluns  know  how  ter  kyore  rattlesnake 
bite." 

"How,  Mammy?"  demanded  Willis. 

"  'Caze  Miss  Eve  watch  de  yerbs  Mist'r 
Rattlesnake  eat  ter  swage  his  pis'n,  den  she 
tell  her  chilluns  ter  eat  de  same  kine  ef  he 
ev'r  bite  dem."  * 

"Did  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  bite  Miss  Eve's 
children?"  asked  Willis. 

aThe  old  Cherokee  Indian  cure  for  rattlesnake 
poison  is  "Robin  Plantain,  Sweet  Fern,  Pine  Snake  root, 
Salve  Weed,  Devil's  Shoe  String,  Wild  Rosemary,  and 
Red  Joint."  It  was  said  that  by  infuriating  the  reptile 
until  a  wound  was  self-inflicted  and  then  observing  his 
selection  of  herbs  as  a  remedy,  the  Indians  found  the 
antidote  for  rattlesnake  bite.  Reptiles  that  were  bitten 
and  kept  in  confinement  died,  while  those  allowed  free 
dom  to  select  and  bite  the  herbs,  recovered. 


272 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

"He  bite  'em  ev'y  time  he  git  er  chanct." 

"But  it  don't  kill  them,  because  they  know 
how  to  get  cured,  don't  they,  Mammy 
Phyllis?"  Mary  Van  disliked  tragedy. 

"Miss  Eve's  Injun  chillun  kyores  derse'f, 
but  de  res'  er  de  f  ambly  dies." 

"No,  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  shan't  bite  Miss 
Eve's  children,"  said  Mary  Van,  shaking 
her  curls. 

"You  late  in  de  day  gittin'  in  yo'  say  so, 
'caze  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  bite  you  ef  you 
fools  wid  'im;  he  ain'  nuv'r  git  in  er  good 
hum'r  wid  nobody  sense  de  Lawd  make  him 
wurk  fur  his  livin'.  He  bin  crawlin' 
crookid,  an'  doin'  fokes  crookid  ev'r  sense." 

"How  does  he  work?"  Willis  pulled  her 
face  to  him. 

"He  wurk  makin'  uth'r  fokes  do  his  wurk 
fur  'im,  dat's  how  he  wurk.  His  ole  'ooman 

273 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

an'  de  chillun  keep  de  sto',  an'  Unk  Toad 
Frog  try  ter  wurk  de  farm  fur  'im,  but 
Mist'r  Rattlesnake  done  eat  up  so  miny 
er  de  Toad  Frog  f  ambly  dat  Unk  Toad  ain' 
got  nuf  han's  lef  ter  make  er  crap.  He  tell 
Mist'r  Rattlesnake  ef  he  doan  git  sumbody 
ter  hope  him,  he  ain'  gwine  have  no  corn, 
so  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  take  out  down  de 
big  road  huntin'  fur  farm  han's,  he  do.  He 
come  ter  er  passel  er  Hop'r  Grasses  settin' 
down  on  de  side  de  road  doin'  nuthin',  an' 
he  tell  'em  ef  dey  come  an'  hope  him 
raise  er  crap  er  corn,  he'll  give  'em  ha'f 
de  crap.  Well,  suh,  dem  Hop'r  Grasses 
plow  an'  hoe,  an'  weed,  an'  pick  bugs  off 


an'- 


"Mammy,  don't  call  them  'hopper  grasses/ 
Mary  Van  says  you  must  say  'Grass-hop 
pers.'  ' 

274 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

"In  de  name  er  de  Lawd,  whut  do  Ma'y 
Van  know  'bout  varmints  an5  beastes?" 

"My  papa  says  you  must  call  them  Grass 
hoppers,"  protested  Mary  Van. 

"I  doan  speck  Mist'r  Hop'r  Grass  men- 
shun  ter  yo'  pa  dat  Hop'r  wus  jes'  er  nick 
name,  did  he?" 

The  little  girl  was  obliged  to  acknowl 
edge  that  no  such  communication  had  taken 
place. 

"Den  he  ain'  got  no  'pin'ons  ter  scat'r  on 
de  subjec' — Hop'r  Grass  say  he  wush  ter  de 
Lawd  fokes'd  stop  nam'n'  him  hine  part 
b'f  o',  ennyhow.  He  say  he  plum  ti'ed  white 
fokes  med'lin'  in  his  'far's — " 

"Mammy,  go  on  about  Mister  Rattle 
snake,"  Willis  began  to  fidget. 

"Set  still  den,  lemme  see  whar  'bouts  I 


wus  at — " 


275 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"The  Hopper  Grasses  were  working  in  the 
field,"  Mary  Van  prompted. 

"Dat's  de  trufe,  dat's  jes'  whar  dem  po' 
things  wus  at.  Lawdee5  how  dem  varmints 
jes'  nachelly  wurk  derse'fs  mouty  nigh  ter 
death.  Bimeby,  de  corn  'gun  ter  tos'l  an' 
git  ripe,  an'  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  see  de 
harves'  ain'  fur  off,  an'  he  know  he  bleeg'd 
ter  'vide  dat  corn  wid  dem  Hop'r  Grasses. 
He  lay  out  on  de  creek  bank  an'  study  how 
he  gwine  ter  cheat  'em.  One  day  de  Hop'r 
Grasses  wus  er  settin'  down  in  de  shade  er 
de  corn  jes'  waitin'  fur  Mist'r  Rattlesnake 
ter  give  de  wurd  ter  go  ter  cuttin',  whin 
Mist'r  Rattlesnake  crope  up  ter  de  back 
er  de  fiel'  an'  clim'  on  top  er  de  fence  an' 
give  er  crack  er  his  tail  so  loud  dat  de  po' 
Hop'r  Grasses  scat'r  all  ov'r  de  country  ev'y 
which  er  way.  Dey  wus  so  skeer'd,  hit  take 

276 


MISTER  RATTLESNAKE 

'cm  er  long  time  fo'  dey  darsen't  ter  come 
back  ter  see  whut  'twus  skeer'd  'em.  By  dat 
time,  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  had  done  trench 
hisse'f  on  dis  side  de  law.  Yas,  suh,  he  tak'n 
his  seat  'pon  top  er  dat  gate,  an'  'fuse  ter 
let  er  one  on  'em  come  in  de  fiel'.  He  tell 
'em  dey  done  flew'd  off  an'  lef  him  'fo' 
harves'  time,  an'  dee  done  broke  der  corn- 
track,  an'  no  law  ain'  gwine  hole  him  ter 
his'n,  an'  dey  mout  jes'  es  well  ter  g'long  off 
an'  git  ernuth'r  job." 

"Didn't  the  Hopper  Grasses  fight  him?" 
Willis'  fists  closed  at  the  thought. 

'Tight?  Whut  chanct  wud  dey  had 
'ginst  dat  low  down  Rattlesnake?"  lifting 
Mary  Van  from  her  apron  and  trying  to  pull 
herself  up  by  the  bushes.  "Dey  done  whut 
ev'ybody  does  dat  runs  up  'ginst  snake  law 
— dey  got  swindl'd." 

277 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"What's  snake  law?"  he  tried  to  assist 
her. 

"Snake  law  is  sin  law,  doan  you  nuv'r  fer- 
git  dat,"  she  smoothed  her  apron  out,  and 
adjusted  the  little  boy's  blouse3  "an'  whin 
you  gits  ter  be  er  big  man  like  yo'  pa,  jes' 
recoleck  whut  yo'  Mammy  tole  yer,  dat  law 
whut  ain't  right  right,  is  snake  law,  an'  dem 
whut  foll'rs  'long  b'hime  hit  has  got  ter  go 
in  er  crook'd  track.  'Memb'r  dat  long  es  you 
live,  Mammy's  man." 

Willis  again  begged  to  show  Mary  Van 
the  green  snakes,  when  Phyllis  exclaimed, 
"Sakes  er  live,  look  at  de  peaches  dat  nigg'r 
Zeek  is  got." 


278 


XV 
MISS  QUEEN  BEE 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

'Keep  way  fum  dem  bee  hives,  yer  hyah?" 
admonished  Phyllis  from  her  old  rocking 
chair  under  the  cherry  tree,  where  she  alter 
nately  dozed  and  kept  watch  on  the  children 
playing  around  her  in  the  yard. 

"Mammy,  the  bees  are  all  crawling  out  of 
the  hive,"  exclaimed  Willis. 

"Lawdy  mussy,  dem  bees  fixin'  ter 
swarm!"  then  raising  her  voice,  "Zeek'l, — ah 
Zeek! — come  quick,  yer  bees  fixin'  ter 
swarm!" 

Zeek  came  running  up  through  the  garden, 
with  a  tin  pan  and  stick  in  hand  calling, 
"Which  way'ddey  go?" 

But  the  bees  answered  the  question  them- 
281 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

selves,  for  at  that  moment  they  started  in  the 
direction  of  the  garden.  Zeek  began  to  beat 
furiously  upon  the  tin  pan,  while  the  chil 
dren  screamed  in  excitement  as  they  beheld 
the  bees  hover  a  moment  above  Zeek's  head, 
then  descend  one  and  all  upon  his  hat. 
Many  straggling  ones  crawled  about  his 
face,  one  in  its  distraction  landed  upon  his 
eyelid,  closing  the  eye. 

Zeek  walked  steadily  without  batting  the 
open  eye,  until  he  reached  an  empty  gum. 
There  with  the  assistance  of  Phyllis,  he  care 
fully  relieved  his  head  of  its  dangerous 
burden. 

"Whew!"  he  exclaimed,  wiping  the  per 
spiration  from  his  head,  "dat's  de  out- 
bangin'es'  hivin'  I  ev'r  done  in  all  m'  life, 
an'  dat  hive  in  dat  ole  gum  ain't  wurth  er 
cent,"  he  ended  reflectively. 

282 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

"Howcum  yer  say  so?" 

"Lawd,  Phyllis,"  he  replied  pushing  his 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  folding  his 
arms  across  his  chest,  "you'se  he'rd  er  menny 
time  dat 

"  'De  bees  dat  swarms  in  May, 
Is  wurth  er  load  er  hay, 
De  bees  dat  swarms  in  June 
Is  wurth  er  silv'r  spoon; 
Dem  dat  swarms  in  July 
Ain't  wurth  er  house  fly.' 

An'  dem  bees  er  swarmin'  hyah  in  Argus' 
ain'  wurth  nuthin'  but  ter  show  you  whut 
er  bee-hiv'r  I  is." 

"Hit  show  pertic'ler  you  ain'  nuthin'  ter 
make  honey  out'n,"  Phyllis  laughed. 

"I  ain'  notice  none  uv  'em  smackin'  der 
mouf  ov'r  you  yerse'f,  Sis'  Phyllis,*  he  re 
torted  grinning. 

283 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Bees  don't  eat  people,  Uncle  Zeek," 
Mary  Van  endeavored  to  explain,  "they  just 
sting  them  like  hornets  do." 

"Does  dey,  honey  ?  Well,  I  boun'  none 
uv  'em  ain'  gwine  wase  er  sting  on  dat  ole 
black  bag  er  salt  ov'r  yond'r,"  pointing  at 
Phyllis. 

"My  Mammy's  not  any  old  black  salt 
either!"  And  Willis  squeezed  her  around 
the  neck. 

"She's  er  ole  black  nigg'r,  dat's  whut  she 
is/'  teased  Zeek. 

"She's  not  black! — and  she's  not  a  nigger 
either!"  and  he  began  to  kiss  her  face. 

"Name  er  de  Lawd,  ef  she  ain't  er  nigg'r, 
an'  she  ain'  black,  whut  is  she?"  Zeek  thor 
oughly  enjoyed  the  little  boy's  very  evi 
dent  discomfort. 

"She's  my  Mammy, — and  she's  purty  like 
284 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

my  mama."  Willis  was  dangerously  near 
tears,  as  he  left  Phyllis's  lap  and  made  for 
Zeek.  'Til  hit  you  if  you  call  my  mammy  a 
nigger." 

Mary  Van  had  thrown  an  iron  toy  at  him, 
whereupon  Phyllis  interfered. 

"G'long  an'  'ten'  ter  yer  biznes',  Zeek, — 
I'm  gwine  call  Miss  Lucy  ef  you  starts  dese 
chillun  ter  cry  in'. — Chillun,  youall  bring 
yer  lit'le  cheers  yond'r  an'  set  hyah  in  front 
uv  Mammy,  an'  she'll  tell  yer  'bout  Miss 
Queen  Bee  an'  her  fambly." 

"Mammy,  what  made  Miss  Queen  Bee 
move  out  from  her  house  just  now?"  Willis 
interposed. 

c  'Caze  she  wanter  git  erway  f'um  An' 
Polly  Parrit — she  say  she  ti'ed  An'  Polly 
pokin'  her  nose  in  her  biznes'." 

"Papa  says  she  has  to  move  'cause  her 

285 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

children  take  up  all  the  room."  Willis  gave 
this  information  with  an  air  of  knowing 
more  on  the  subject. 

"Dar  now,  yer  hyah  de  preach' r,  doan 
yer?"  chuckling  and  looking  with  pride  upon 
him. 

"I  speck  you  done  outgrow'd  dat  confab 
Miss  Queen  Bee  speak  wid  me  too,  ain't 
yer?" 

Willis  did  not  entirely  gather  her  mean 
ing,  but  he  replied: 

"My  papa  says  they  won't  sting  you  if 
you  don't  bother  'em." 

"Aha,  yo'  pa  tole  de  trufe — 'cep'n  some 
times.  Bees  is  cur'us  creeturs,  I  tell  yer  dey 
is.  Dey  ain'  nuthin'  but  er  passel  er  fokes 
wid  wings  on  'em.  Ole  Miss  Queen  Bee 
settin'  up  dar,  make  'em  walk  er  chalk  line, 
she  do.  She  de  law — she  sho'  is.  Ef  she 

286 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

say  fight, — dey  fights.  Ef  she  say,  ax  der 
pard'n, — dey  axes  hit.  But, — "  and  she 
hesitated,  rubbing  her  arm,  "dey  is  some 
times  whin  bees  gits  jes'  like  crazy  fokes  an' 
loses  all  der  senses." 

"That's  when  they  swarm,  ain't  it, 
Mammy?"  suggested  Willis  authoritatively. 

"  'Tain't  no  sich  er  thing, — You  done  give 
out  all  de  knowin'  you  know'd  'bout  bees. 
Set  still  an'  lis'n  ter  sumbody  else,"  revert 
ing  to  her  subject.  "Dis  time  I'm  talkin' 
'bout  wus  whin  triberlashun  'pon  triber- 
lashun  hap'n  ter  Miss  Queen's  fokes. 

"One  day  Miss  Queen  Bee's  chillun  was 
gittin'  honey  out'n  de  clov'r  wid  Miss  Black 
Bee's  chilluns.  De  Bizzy  Bees  notice  Miss 
Black  Bee's  fokes  doan  seem  ter  be  to  tin' 
much  honey  back  and  furrards,  but  dey  ain' 
got  no  time  ter  confab,  so  dey  doan  say 

287 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

nuthin'.  Bimeby,  Miss  Queen  Bee  see  one 
de  Black  Bee  f  okes  come  in  wid  her  chillun, 
an'  she  notice  he  ain'  brung  no  honey  in  wid 
him,  but  she  do  notice  dat  he  tak'n  con- 
siderbul  out  wid  Jim." 

"Mammy,  my  papa  says  they  ain't  any 
little  bees  that  don't  work  except  the 
drones,"  corrected  the  little  boy. 

"Lemme  tell  yer  sump' in,  yo'  pa  know 
mo'  'bout  pol'tics  dan  he  do  'bout  bees. 
'Caze  I  knows  whin  bees  starts  ter  stealin', 
dey's  de  bigges'  rogues  in  de  woel.  An'  dese 
black  bees  whut  I'm  talkin'  'bout,  wus 
scan'lus  steal'rs,  too.  Bimeby,  hyah  come 
sum  mo',  an'  mo',  tell  Miss  Queen  holFr 
out  fur  her  fightin'  squad !  Dem  Bizzy  Bee 
boys  swarms  quick  whin  dey  heahs  de  war 
holl'r,  an'  'tain'  long  'fo'  de  Bizzy  Bees  an' 
de  Black  Bees  wus  er  buzzin'  an'  er  clippin' 

288 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

at  one  nuthYs  wings,  tell  de  wings  wus 
f  allin',  'round  thick  es  gnats.  I  tell  yer  Miss 
Queen  Bee's  chillun  had  er  mouty  hard  fight 
ter  keep  der  honey,  but  bimeby  dey  run  all 
de  Black  Bees  off  'cep'n  dem  whut  dey 
kilt." 

"The  Black  Bees  didn't  hurt  any  of  Miss 
Queen's  children,  did  they?"  asked  Mary 
Van. 

f  'Cose  some  uv  'em  got  hurt'd,  an'  some 
uv  'em  wint  so  far  es  ter  git  kilt,  but — " 

"Wasn't  Miss  Queen  mighty  sorry  for 
"em?"  sympathized  the  little  girl. 

"She  ain'  know  nuthin'  'bout  hit,  'caze 
Miss  Queen  Bee's  chillun  dat  gits  sick  er 
hurted  doan  nuv'r  come  home.  Nor,  suh, 
dey  g'long  off  an'  die  by  derse'f." 

"I  don't  want  'em  to  go  off.  I  want  all 
of  them  to  sleep  with  their  mama  till  they 

289 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

get  well;"  Mary  Van  nudged  the  old 
woman's  knee,  "make  'em  go  and  tell  their 
mama  wherebouts  they  hurt." 

"No,  mam,  Miss  Queen  say  she  ain'  got 
no  time  ter  nuss  nobody,  'caze  Mist'r  Rattle 
snake  crawlin'  'roun'  her  gum  right  now, 
an'  she  gittin'  pow'ful  nervious.  She  know 
Mist'r  Rattlesnake  know  how  rich  wid  honey 
she  is,  an'  Rattlesnake  know  her  boys  comes 
home  wid  der  pockits  full  ev'y  trip.  Ole 
Grab-Ail  Spider  know  hit,  too,  an'  he  crope 
up  on  de  uth'r  side  er  de  gum  ter  ketch 
de  Bee  boys  whin  dey  lights.  Whin  Miss 
Queen  see  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  an'  ole  Grab- 
Ail  Spider  settin'  'long  side  er  her  do',  she 
sen'  Buzzy  Drone  Bee  ter  tell  de  fightin' 
squad  ter  git  reddy  ter  fight  ergin  whin  dey 
heahs  de  war  holl'r." 

"Why  didn't  she  ask  Mister  Man  to  help 
290 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

her?"  Willis  stood  up  and  leaned  against 
her  knee. 

"Miss  Queen  ain'  gwine  ax  nobody  ter 
hope  her  do  nuthin5.  She  fixin'  ter  have  er 
set'lement  herse'f,  but  jes'  es  she  fixin'  ter 
git  reddy,  Mist'r  Rattlesnake  an'  ole  Grab- 
Ail  Spider  start  ter  gobblin'  de  Bee  boys  es 
dey  lights." 

"Please,  Mammy,  make  'em  stop!" 
Mary  Van  was  up  tugging  at  Phyllis' 
shoulder.  "Quick,  Mammy,  before  they  eat 
any  more !" 

"Lawd,  chillun,  Miss  Queen  so  mis'erbul 
'bout  dem  chillun,  she  plum  crazy  by  now 
— she  tell  her  chillun  ter  light  out  fum  dar 
an'  sting  ev'y  thing  dey  kin  git  on,  an'  dey 
does  hit,  too,  fer  de  Bizzy  Bees  allus  tends 
to  dey  biznes'." 

"They  stung  old  Grab-Ail  and  old  Rattle- 
291 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

snake  first,  didn't  they?"    Willis  was  half 
in  her  lap. 

"No,  suh,  whin  Grab-All  an'  Rattlesnake 
seen  de  blood  in  Miss  Queen's  eye,  dey  lit 
out  fum  dar,  an'  de  Bizzy  Bees  come  down 
on  Jack  Donkey.  Jack  he  had  jump  de 
fence  an'  come  up  in  de  upper  lot  ter  git 
er  lit'le  watermillon  rine  he  seen  by  de  back 
porch,  an'  I  tell  yer  he  kick  out  consid'rble 
whin  dem  bees  drap  derse'fs  on  him.  He 
tak'n  out  fur  de  stable  ter  git  Brer  Dur'am 
Cow  ter  rake  de  bees  off'n  him, — ev'y  one 
Brer  Dur'am  rake,  light  on  his  own  se'f  an' 
'tain'  long  'fo'  him  an'  Jack  takes  out  fur 
Mist'r  Man's,  an'  ax  him  fur  de  Lawd's  sake 
ter  cl'ar  'em  uv  de  bees.  Mist'r  Man's  old 
lady,  an'  de  lit'le  boy  come  out  ter  see  whut 
ail  de  beastes,  an'  I  tell  yer  de  bees  start  dem 
ter  hoU'rin'  an'  dancin', — An'  Polly  Parrit, 

292 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

she  come  out  ter  git  de  news,  an5  I  tell  yer 
de  ole  lady  git  in  de  hottes'  part  er  de  f  racus, 


too." 


"Did  they  sting  Mister  Man's  little  boy 
much?"  Mary  Van  pushed  Willis,  who 
was  dancing  all  around  Phyllis,  out  of  her 
way.  "Sit  down,  Willis." 

"Lawdee,"  continued  Phyllis,  gently  for 
cing  the  little  boy  into  his  chair  again,  "doan 
yer  heah  dat  boy  squallin'  right  now?  Dem 
bare  legs  er  his'n  right  full  er  bees.  Mist'r 
Man,  he  run  an5  start  ter  smokin'  de  bees, 
fas'  es  he  kin,  an'  bimeby,  atter  er  long  time, 
de  Bee  boys  goes  back  ter  dey  ma." 

"Mammy,  you  tell  Miss  Queen  Bee  to 
tell  John  Mocking  Bird  to  eat  old  Grab-Ail 
up,"  pleaded  Mary  Van,  putting  her  arms 
around  Phyllis's  neck. 

"Ain'  I  done  tole  yer  Miss  Queen  ain' 

293 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

gwine  ax  nobody  fur  nuthin',  an'  she  ain' 
gwine  give  nobody  nuthin'  needier?  She  tell 
her  chillun  ter  scuf'le  hard  an'  make  er  heap 
er  honey,  an'  den  hit  doan  make  no  diffunce 
whut  happ'n.  One  day,  one  er  her  boys 
come  out  uv  er  flow'r  so  full  er  honey  dat  he 
come  blump  on  de  groun'.  Ev'y  time  he  try 
ter  fly,  hyah  he  come  back  blump  on  de 
groun'  ergin.  Nancy  Hummin'  Bird  tell 
him  ter  git  up  on  her  back  an3  she'd  give 
'im  er  lif.  He  crawl  on  Nancy's  back  an' 
she  tuk  'im  home.  Whin  Miss  Queen  seed 
him,  she  ax  'im  how  he  got  dar  wid  sich  er 
load  er  honey.  He  tell  his  ma  Nancy  f otch 
'im.  Hoopee!  she  buzz  on  him  I  tell  yer. 
Yas5  suh !  She  say :  ' Yer  go  straight  es  you 
kin  an'  pay  fur  dat  ride.' ' 

"Did  he  pay  five  cents  money,  Mammy?" 
Willis  rocked  over  backwards  but  was  up 

294 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

before  Phyllis  could  rise.     "It  didn't  hurt. 
Did  she  give  him  five  cents,  Mammy'?" 

"Nor,  he  give  Miss  Nancy  some  honey, 
whut  she  love  good  es  de  bees  does,  but 
Nancy  got  nuf  mann'rs  ter  tell  him  she  doan 
charge  'im,  but  Bizzy  pay  her  enyhow, 
'caze  his  ma  done  tole  'im  dey  ain'  keerin' 
ter  make  no  'quaintance  wid  nobody  'cep'n 
wid  flow'rs.  Miss  Queen  say:  'Hit's  all 
right  ter  mix  up  wid  de  flow'rs,  'caze  dat's 
biznes',  but  de  res'  er  de  woel  kin  g'long 
whar  dey's  er  mine  ter.'  Miss  Queen  totin' 
her  haid  pow'ful  high  dese  days,  'caze  dat 
gum's  full  er  honey  an'  she  ain'  owin'  no 
body  er  cent.  She  say  she  ain'  got  no  use 
fur  nuthin'  'cepin'  biznes'.  Dey  g'long  ter 
bed  mouty  biggity,  an'  feelin'  pow'ful 
rich,  but  'long  in  de  night  er  bad  old  man 
come  an'  take'n  ev'r  speck  er  honey  in  de 

295 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

gum.  Miss  Queen  think  she  done  dremp  er 
nightmar',  but  whin  she  git  up  in  de  mawnin' 
sho'  nuf  dey  ain'  got  er  Lawd's  bite  cr  brek- 
fus'.  Miss  Queen,  she  say:  'G'long  in  de 
fiel',  chillun,  an'  git  us  some  brekfus'. 
'Tain3  gwine  be  long  'fo'  we'll  git  rich  ergin.' 

"But  Jack  Frost  meet  'em  at  de  do',  an' 
say,  Til  bite  de  fus'  man  dat  sticks  his  nose 
out.' 

"Miss  Queen  say,  'Lawdy,  Lawdy,  whut 
we  gwine  do?  De  idee  er  rich  fokes  like 
we  all  wus,  settin'  hyah  waitin'  fur  po'  fokes 
ter  hope  us.' 

"Jack  Frost  say,  'You  done  slip  up  right 
dar,  Sis'  Queen  Bee,  de  Lawd  ain'  nuv'r 
make  nobody  so  big  dey  kin  git  'long  by  der- 
se'f,  an'  ef  you  had  er  drapt  er  lit'le  er  dat 
honey  'long  side  de  road  whilst  yer  wus  er 
makin'  so  much  uv  hit,  you'd  er  had  some  uv 

296 


MISS  QUEEN  BEE 

hit  layin'  'round  whar  Mist'r  Bad  Man 
cudn't  er  foun'  hit.'  " 

"Make  old  Mister  Bad  Man  give  'em  back 
some  honey,"  Willis  insisted. 

"Mister  Bad  Man  done  sole  dat  honey  an' 
got  hisse'f  er  pa'r  er  shoes  ter  keep  Jack  Fros' 
fum  bitin'  his  foots." 

Both  children  were  clamoring  for  the 
rescue  of  the  bees. 

"Nor,  suh,  dey  done  live  by  derse'fs  whilst 
dey  wus  rich,  an'  now  mis'ry  done  ketch  up 
wid  'em,  dey  got  ter  perish  in  de  same  way." 

"Boo  hoo,  boo  hoo/'  wailed  both,  "I  don't 
want  Miss  Bizzy  Bee's  children  to  perish." 

"Hush  cryin'." 

But  they  continued  in  genuine  sympathy. 

"Y'uall  cryin'  so  hard,  yer  can't  see 
Mist'r  Good  Man  comin'  wid  his  han's  right 
full  er  bee  vit'als.  But  dat  ain'  gwine  be 

297 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

no  less'n  ter  dem  bees.  Dey  gwine  do  de 
same  thing  dis  time  nex'  ye'r,  'caze  dey's 
dem  kine  er  fokes." 


298 


XVI 

MISTER  TALL  PINE'S 
CHRISTMAS  TREE 


MISTER  TALL  PINE'S 
CHRISTMAS  TREE 

"Mammy,  I  wanter  telephone  Santy 
Claus,"  fretted  Willis,  seeking  excuse  to 
leave  the  nursery. 

"Nor,  he  done  gone  erway  fum  home  ter 
hunt  up  whar  de  good  chilluns  stays  at,"  as 
she  moved  about  putting  the  room  to  rights ; 
"you  an'  Ma'y  Van  fix  dat  lit'le  Chrismus 
tree  ov'r  yond'r  fur  Ma'y  Van's  dolls,  an' 
you  be  ole  man  Sandy." 

"I  got  ter  telephone  Santy  Claus  about 
little  Leonora — he  don't  know  she's  come/' 
insisted  Willis. 

"I  dunno  whut's  de  rees'n — he  brung  her 
301 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

hisse'f  dis  mawnin',"  still  moving  briskly 
about. 

"I  got  to  telephone  Santy  what  to  bring 
her,"  he  persisted. 

"Dat  baby  ain'  got  her  eyes  op'n  yit." 

"Yes,  she  has,  Mammy,"  and  Mary  Van 
crossed  the  room  and  looked  into  Phyllis' s 
face,  "they're  big  brown  ones,  'caus  I  went 
over  to  Uncle  Hugh's  house  and  looked  at 
'em  good  m'self ." 

"Well,  I  doan  keer  nuthin'  tall  'bout  dat, 
Sandy  Claus  say  she  too  lit'le  fur  him  ter 
fool  wid  yit." 

Mary  Van  turned  to  Willis,  "Less  us  fix 
this  tree  for  little  Leonora." 

"No,  I'm  got  to  telephone  to  Santy 
Claus."  He  clung  to  the  knob  of  the  locked 
door. 

"Well,  ef  yer  'bleege  ter  pass  er  wurd  wid 
302 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

'im,  holl'r  up  de  chimbly — he  settin'  up  dar 
lis'nin'  ter  see  ef  you'se  er  good  boy." 

"No,  I  want  to  go  downstairs  and  see  my 
mama!"  and  he  kicked  violently  against  the 
door. 

Instead  of  coercing  him,  Phyllis  took  her 
seat  by  the  fire,  and  placing  her  elbows  upon 
her  knees,  spoke  with  her  face  towards  the 
chimney:  "Suh?"  pausing  a  moment  to 
listen;  "yas>  suh — yas,  suh,  dat's  Willis,  but 
he  ain'  no  bad  chile, — yas,  suh,  dat's  him 
kickin'  'gainst  de  do',  but  he  jes'  playin'  foot 
ball  wid  hit — nor,  suh,  Willis  ain'  bad,  he's 
de  bes'  boy  in  dis  town." 

Immediately  both  children  were  climbing 
into  her  lap  asking  and  answering  their  own 
questions.  "Lawdy  mussy  'pon  me!  Set 
down  like  fokes — whut's  dem  lit'le  cheers 
fur?"  They,  however,  seated  themselves 

303 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

upon  the  rug,  and  pulled  her  down  with 
them  so  as  to  be  more  convenient  for  further 
chimney  discourse. 

"Mammy,  did  he  say  he  was  going  to 
bring  my  drum,  an'  billy  goat  wagon,  an' — " 

"An'  my  dolly  with  long  hair  that  can 
talk,  an'  my — " 

"He  say,"  she  interrupted  quietly,  "he 
gwine  bring  yer  all  dem  things  you  done 
writ  erbout5  ef  yer  be's  good  chillun.  De 
speshul  news  he  giv'  me  den,  is  'bout  de 
beastes;  an'  creeters'  Crismus  tree.  He  say 
Tall  Pine  gwine  be  de  Crismus  tree,  an' 
Mist'r  Race  Hoss  gwine  read  out  de  names 
on  de  pres'nts." 

"Mammy,  can  Mist'r  Race  Hoss  climb  up 
Tall  Pioe  Tree?" 

"Whut  he  hatt'r  clime  hit  fur?  Ain't 
Mist'r  Wile  Cat  dar  ter  scale  de  tree  an' 

304 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

ain'  Doct'r  Peckerwood  settin'  up  dar  wid 
his  doct'r  sissors,  jes'  waitin'  ter  clip  de 
strings?" 

"But  Mister  Wild  Cat  might  eat  up 
Doctor  Peckerwood,"  said  Mary  Van,  dis 
trustfully. 

"Honey,  Mist'r  Wile  Cat's  like  er  heap 
er  slick  f okes  in  de  woel — he'll  wurk  pow'f ul 
good  an'  squar'  long  es  he  know  fokes 
watchin'  'im.  All  de  beastes  an'  creeturs 
come  ter  de  tree — an'  I  tell  yer  dar  wus  er 
Crismus  gif  fur  all  de  good  ones." 

"Mister  Rattlesnake  didn't  get  any,  did 
he?"  asked  Mary  Van. 

"Rattlesnake  say  Decemb'r  too  late  fur 
him  ter  be  settin'  up,  an'  he  say  he'd  ruth'r 
sleep  dan  go  ter  enny  ole  Crismus  tree  enny- 
how." 

"Tishy  Peafowl  was  too  bad,  too,  wasn't 

305 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

she,  Mammy?"  Mary  Van  remembered  the 
bad  ones. 

"You  slip  up  right  dar,  yas,  mam,  you  is, 
fur  Tishy  done  got  'ligion  an'  jine  de 
church." 

"Did  her  pretty  feathers  grow  out  again?" 

"No,  mam!  sin  done  eat  'em  out  by  de 
roots,  but  de  Lawd  hang  er  mouty  prutty 
fe'th'r  coll'r  on  de  tree  fur  her,  jes'  ter  show 
Tish  he  know  she  tryin'." 

"And  Tishy  never  was  bad  any  more,"  as 
sisted  Willis. 

"Dat  she  wus,  sin  ketch'd  up  wid  her  er 
heap  er  times,  but  she  recoleck  'bout  de  col'r, 
an'  fight  de  bes'  she  kin,  an'  de  Lawd  doan 
ax  fur  no  mo'." 

"Was  Jack  Donkey  too  bad  to  come?" 

"Jack  Donkey  wusn't  no  wusser'n  er  heap 
uv  'em  dat  gits  ter  Crismus  trees.  Jack  he 

306 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

writ'n  an'  ax  Sandy  ter  bring  him  er  fine 
kiv'r  so  fokes  can't  fine  out  he's  er  donkey. 
Sandy,  he  sen'  him  de  kiv'r  wid  all  sort  er 
fine  doin's  on  hit,  but  whin  Cap'n  Goat  fling 
hit  on  Jack,  dar  wus  his  b'hime  legs  prancin' 
erbout,  an'  his  long  ye'rs  still  er  stickin'  out. 
Cap'n  Goat,  he  pull  an'  pull  ter  stretch  de 
kiv'r,  but  hit  won't  stretch,  den  de  Cap'n 
tell  him,  Mack,'  sez  he,  'long  es  you  keeps 
dem  b'hime  foots  wurkin'  like  you  does,  an' 
dem  long  ye'rs  gwine  ev'y  which  er  way,  yer 
mout  jes'  es  well  call  yo'se'f  donkey,  'caze  no 
kiv'r  ain'  gwine  stretch  big  nuf  ter  hide  dem 
p'ints.'  " 

Willis  pushed  her  knee:  "Give  Cap'n 
Yellow  Jacket  and  Cap'n  Hornet  something 
nice  'cause  old  Grab-Ail  got  all  their  cider, 
— they  didn't  do  anything  bad." 

"Lawdy,  boy,  dem  fokes  done  kilt  one 

307 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

nuth'r  long  ergo.  Doan  yer  'memb'r?  But 
der  wid'rs  got  ax  ter  come,  an5  dey  nev'r 
went,  'caze  Grab-All  Spid'r  tryin'  ter  dance 
'tendance  fus'  on  one,  den  tuth'r  uv  'em." 

"Don't  let  old  Grab-Ail  get  any  present." 

"Lawsee,  I  mos'  fergit  ter  tell  yer  'bout  de 
axdent  dat  hap'n  ter  ole  Grab-Ail,  whin 
he  come  er  sneakin'  up  de  side  er  Mist'r  Tall 
Pine.  Yassuh,  Mist'r  Wile  Cat  an'  Doct'r 
Peck'rwood  tryin'  ter  handle  dat  buckit  er 
hot  cowpeas  an'  pot  licker  fur  Sis'  Cow,  whin 
de  whole  thing  slip  an'  come  down  blump, 
on  ole  Grab-All." 

"Did  it  kill  him?" 

"Nor,  dorter,  he  too  mean  ter  die,  but  dat's 
whut  he  got  off'n  de  Crismus  tree." 

"Didn't  Sis'  Cow  get  some  more  peas?" 
asked  Willis. 

"Nor,  she  say  her  an'  Brer  Dur'am  'ud  jes' 
308 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

lick  up  whut  dey  cud  off  n  de  groun'.  Sis' 
Cow  say  she  willin'  ter  lose  de  peas  jes'  ter 
see  ole  Grab-All  git  fixt.  I  tell  yer  de  tree 
lookin'  mouty  fine  by  de  time  ole  Crismus 
night  come.  Yer  see  de  beastes  hatt'r  have 
der  doin's  on  ole  Crismus  night." 

"What's  Old  Christmas?5 

"I  donno  whut  'tis,  son,  'cep'n  I  allus  heah 
dat  twelve  days  atter  Crismus,  'zackly  at 
twelve  erclock  in  de  night  time,  all  de 
beastes  an'  creeturs  falls  on  der  knees  an' 
glorifies  de  Lawd, — an'  I  allus  heahs  fokes 
call  hit  'Ole  Crismus.'  " 

"Birds  can't  kneel,  Mammy  Phyllis,"  an 
nounced  Mary  Van. 

"Dey  kin  put  der  haid  on  de  groun',  an' 
make  der  cross  mark,  I  reckin." 

"Where  was  Miss  Queen  Bee;  you  left  her 
out?" 

309 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Miss  Queen  lef  herse'f  out,  she  say  she 
feer'd  her  rumaticks  'ud  git  wusser,  but  dat 
ain'  so — she  feer'd  sumbody  gwine  ketch  her 
'Crismus  gifY  " 

"Did  God  fix  their  eyes  like  Johnnie 
Squinch's,  so  they  could  see  the  tree  good  at 
night?" 

"Whut  he  got  ter  do  dat  fur.,  son?" 
Ain'  you  seed  de  candles  dat  grows  on  de 
een'  er  ev'y  pine  tree  branch?" 

"No,  Mammy  Phyllis,  I  haven't,"  Mary 
Van  insisted  upon  an  explanation. 

"Shucks,  gal,  ain'  yer  seed  dis  hyah  lit'le 
light  green  candle  sorter  lookin'  things 
comin'  out'n  de  bushy  een'  er  de  pine  tree 
branches?" 

"Are  they  candles?"  the  little  girl  did  not 
quite  remember. 

"Whut  else  is  dey  ter  light  up  de  Lawd's 
310 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

birfday  party  wid?  I'll  show  yer  dem 
candles  de  nex'  time  we  goes  on  Tink'r 
Knob.  I  tell  yer  whin  de  Roost'r  teler- 
fome:  'Come  on  ter  de  Crismus  t-r-e-e-,' 
'Come  on  ter  de  Crismus  t-r-e-e-!'  dey  all 
comes  er  tar'in'.  Ole  man  Roost'r,  he  fly 
up  ter  de  highes'  rock  on  Tink'r  Knob,  an' 
watch  de  clouds.  Miss  Moon,  she  bus'  th'u 
er  big  Black  bank  uv  'em  an'  tetch  off  ev'y 
candle  on  dat  tree — an'  ole  man  Roost'r  say, 
'Blessed  be  de  L-a-w-d,'  an'  all  de  beastes 
draps  on  der  knees,  an'  says  der  pra'rs.  Den 
dey  gits  up  an'  ketches  one  nuth'r  Crismus 
gif ',  an'  den  dey  gits  der  pres'nts." 

"Mammy,  did  Ned  Dog,  an'  Lilly  Dove, 
an'  Big  Eye  Buzzard  get  sumthin'?" 
Willis  wanted  to  remember  all. 

"No,"  interrupted  Mary  Van,  shaking 
her  finger  at  Willis.  "Mammy  said  the 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

bad  ones  couldn't  come3  and  Big  Eye  was 
bad." 

"Well,  I  tell  yer,  dey  let  Big  Eye  come  an' 
clean  up  de  scraps  fur  'em,  'caze  he  done 
name  hisse'f  Buzzard  ergin,  an'  he  wus  git- 
tin'  long  bet'r." 

"Mammy,  did  everyone  that  was  good  get 
something?" 

"Not  ev'y  single  one,  baby.  Hit  hap'n 
dat  Sandy  Claus  make  some  mouty  bad  mees- 
takes,  ev'y  now  an'  den.  Some  time  he  give 
bad  fokes  de  things  de  good  f okes  orter  have. 
You  'memb'rs  dem  fire  crack' rs  dat  lit'le 
yaller  dog  ax  us  ter  take  off'n  his  tail  las' 
Crismus?  Well,  dat  Weed  boy's  ole  bad 
bull  dog  gits  er  heap  mo'n  him." 

"Mammy,  let  Yellow  Doggie  come  to 
Mister  Tall  Pine's  Christmas  Tree,"  begged 
Willis. 

312 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

"He  say  he  ruth'r  eat  Crismus  dinn'r  wid 
Ned  Dog.  But  dar's  er  heap  er  yall'r  dogs 
'mongst  fokes  I  tell  yer.  Dat  po'  white 
'ooman  come  beggin'  hyah  las'  week,  wid  dat 
raggity  boy  tryin'  ter  hope  car'y  de  po5  lit'le 
ha'f  froz'  baby.  No,  Lawd,"  she  shook  her 
head,  "dem  fokes  ruth'r  have  er  piece  er  corn 
bread,  an'  er  han'full  er  fier'n  all  de  Crismus 
tree  yer  kin  stick  at  'em."  The  mental 
picture  of  the  woman  was  still  vivid,  for  she 
continued:  "I  speck  dat  'ooman  got  dat 
quilt  yer  ma  give  her,  wrop  roun'  her  right 
now,  squattin'  close  ter  some  hot  ashes  in  de 
fierplace,  wid  de  baby  squose  up  right  clost 
ter  her,  an'  dat  boy  gittin'  clost  es  he  kin 
ter  her  und'r  de  quilt — an'  I  speck  he  say, 
e  'Ma,  doan  yer  wush  we  had  er  stockin' 
ter  hang  up,  so  Sandy  Claus  'ud  bring  us 
sumpin'  ?' 

313 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"I  speck  his  ma  hug  him  tight  wid  one 
arm,  an'  moan,  an'  moan,  an'  moan,  an'  I 
speck  de  boy  say: 

1  cMa,  yer  reckin'  Sandy  'ud  give  us  er 
piece  er  bread,  ef  I  wuster  go  down  ter  de 
sto'  wind'r  an'  ax  him  fur  hit?' 

"An'  I  speck  his  ma  jes'  keep  on  er  moanin', 
'caze  she  know  dat  ole  sto'  man's  Sandy 
Claus  ain'  no  bett'r'n  de  sto'  man  hisse'f. 

"He  say,  cMa,  yer  reck'n  May  Van  an' 
Willis  'ud  lemme  look  th'u  de  wind'r  at  der 
nice  warm  fier,  an'  all  der  good  sump'in'  ter 
eat,  an'  de  purty  Crismus  tree?' 

"An'  his  ma  mos'  bus'  her  heart  in  two, 
'caze  she  can'  do  nuthin'  but  jes'  luv  'im." 

"Mammy,"  trembled  the  little  girl's  voice, 
"why  didn't  the  little  boy  write  to  Santy 
like  me  and  Willis?" 

"  'Caze  he  nuv'r  had  no  stamp  ter  put  on 

3H 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

de  let'r.  I  tell  yer  hit  takes  money  ter  buy 
Sandy  Claus  stamps." 

"We  just  sent  ours  up  the  chimbly,"  re 
futed  Willis. 

"Dat  boy  didn't  had  ernuf  fire  ter  make 
his'n  go  up  de  chimbly." 

"Why  didn't  his  mama  ask  God?"  half 
whispered  Mary  Van,  as  she  laid  her  head  on 
Phyllis's  shoulder. 

"Dat  po'  creetur's  moanin'  an'  groanin' 
wus  er  heap  loud'r'n  enny  pra'r  she  cud 
pray." 

"Couldn't  God  hear  her?"  Willis  clutched 
her  by  the  arm.  "Ask  God  to  lis'n  good, 
Mammy." 

"De  Lawd  know  his  biznes',  baby,  bet'r'n 
we  does.  Dat  'ooman  got  ter  set  dar  an' 
shiv'r  tell  de  Lawd  git  somebody  ter  het  her 
up  ergin." 

315 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"Mammy,"  said  Willis,  his  lips  quivering, 
"le'ss  weall  take  'em  some  of  our  goodies  an' 
things." 

Mary  Van  begged,  "Please." 

"Dar  now!"  She  placed  a  hand  on  each 
baby  head:  "De  Lawd  done  he'rd  dat  po' 
creet'rs  pra'r  right  now.  He  want  you 
chillun  ter  go  fix  dat  po'  'ooman's  fier,  an' 
give  her  sump'n'  ter  eat,  so  you  won't  nuv'r 
f ergit  how  good  He  is  ter  you,  an'  whin  you 
kicks  at  de  do',  an'  holl'ers  loud,  you'll  'mem 
ber  ter  fight  sin  like  Tishy  Peafowel  do." 

Her  suggestion  went  to  each  eager  little 
heart. 

"Yas,  suh,  an'  de  Lawd  say:  'Doanchu 
both'r  no  mo',  lit'le  boy,  er  ole  black  mammy 
comin'  roun'  hyah  terreckly  wid  er  lit'le  boy 
an'  gal,  an'  dey  gwina  bring  all  der  ole  toys, 
an'  some  der  warm  close  too,  'long  wid 

316 


MISTER  TALL  PINE 

some  nice  vit'als,   an5   der  pa  gwine  sen' 
yer  some  fier,  ter  make  er  fier  wid." 

There  was  no  need  to  lock  the  nursery 
door  on  Christmas  Eve  afternoon,  for  Phyl 
lis  and  two  radiant  little  children  were  in  the 
rockaway,  fairly  packed  in  under  the  good 
things  they  carried  to  some  of  the  homes 
Santa  didn't  know  about.  And  when  the 
happy  little  boy  said  his,  "Now  I  lay  me" 
that  night,  he  asked,  "An'  please  tell  Santy 
not  to  forget  m'  goat  harness  and  m'  goat,  an' 
m'  drum,  an'  bring  Mary  Van  a  harness  like 
my  race  hoss  harness  with  bells,  an'  please 
show  Santy  the  way  to  all  the  lit'le  poor 
children's  houses,  an'  give  'em  some  stamps 
for  their  letters,  too.  An'  please  God  tell 
Santy  to  hurry  up  an'  come  on.  Amen." 


XVII 
AN  AFTERWORD 


AN  AFTERWORD 

Expressions  of  regret  have  reached  me 
that  "Bypaths  in  Dixie"  does  not  open  with 
a  tribute  in  verse  to  old  Mammy.  Let  me 
confess  I  share  this  regret.  It,  therefore, 
occurs  to  me  that  the  sympathetic  readers 
who  have  missed  "Lines  to  Mammy"  from 
my  little  book  may  be  interested  in  the  fol 
lowing  faithful  account  of  the  author's  fail 
ure  to  furnish  this  tribute  to  the  heroine  of 
these  stories.  I  am,  indeed,  the  more  per 
suaded  to  offer  this  personal  experience  of 
authorship,  because  I  believe  it  explains  in 
no  mean  degree  the  missing  poems  from  the 
pages  of  many  women  who  follow  Art  for 
Art's  alluring  sake  along  various  pleasant  by- 

321 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

ways,  but  who  journey  for  the  most  part  on 
the  broad  highway  of  a  very  practical  life. 
Moreover,  those  who  hold  that  poets  are 
born,  not  made,  may  by  the  following  true 
story  be  constrained  to  add  to  their  creed 
that  born  poets  may  by  some  circumstances 
be  unmade. 

The  poem  above  referred  to  was  thought 
of  but  not  until  the  manuscript  was  on  the 
press,  hence  when  the  publisher  wired  "send 
at  once"  the  would-be  poet  succumbed  to  a 
nervousness  calculated  to  destroy  rather 
than  inspire  poetic  impulse.  A  chair  from 
the  chimney  corner  was  drawn  closer  to  the 
fire  in  hopes  that  the  odor  of  burning  logs 
might  woo  association  away  from  radiators 
back  to  the  old  wood-pile,  the  chip  basket, 
and  the  lightwood  knot.  Nor  did  this 

322 


AN  AFTERWORD 

simple  ruse  fail  of  expectation,  for  soon  the 
old  home  took  shape  in  the  flames.  I  could 
see  the  heavy  green  shutters  that  tempered 
the  summer  sun  in  the  nursery,  and  through 
these,  flung  wide,  I  could  look  into  the  high 
pitched  room,  big  and  square,  not  crowded 
for  all  the  crib-beds  of  varying  sizes,  and 
Mammy  with  a  child  in  one  arm  stum 
bling  over  toys  to  the  bedside  of  a  rebellious 
charge :  "Bett'r  shet  yer  eyes  'f  o'  ole  Mist'r 
Grab  All  come  an'  git  yer."  And  so  the 
pencil  moved  : 

In  dreams  I  see  thee  bending  o'er  me. 
To  the  old  plantation  home  we  rove, 
Where— 

At  this  moment  Aunt  Ellen  opened  the 
door  and  waited.  Seeing  she  was  unnoticed, 
she  began : 

323 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"You  ain'  tole  me  er  Lawd's  thing  'bout 
dinn'r  er  bre'kfus,  er  supp'r." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Ellen,  don't  ask  me  what  to 
have — fix  anything." 

In  dreams  I  see  thee  bend — 

"Yassum,  but  yer  got  ter  have  sump5 thin' 
ter  fix  'fo'  yer  kin  fix  hit.3' 

"Mercy  me,"  I  fretfully  turned,  "have 
that  roast  from  yesterday, — it  was  scarcely 
touched."  Then  again  over  the  fire: 

In  dreams  I  see  thee — 

"Cose  I  kin  heat  de  roas',  an'  put  taters 
'roun'  hit,  an' — " 

"Aunt  Ellen,"  an  idea  seized  me,  "you 
know  that  old  black  dress  of  mine  you've 
been  begging  me  for?  Well,  I'll  give  it  to 

324 


AN  AFTERWORD 

you  if  you  will  arrange  everything  nicely 
and  not  ask  me  a  thing." 

In  dreams  I  see  thee  bend — 

"All  right,  honey,  I'll  do  hit  too,  att'r  I 
tells  you  dey  ain'  no  flour  in  de  house." 

"That  barrel  of  flour  gone?" 

"Good  Lawd,  Miss  Sa',  how  long  you 
'speck  flour  ter  las'  an'  you  all  eatin'  like  yer 
does?" 

"Well  order  a  sack,  and  I'll  see  about  an 
other  barrel  when  I  go  down  town." 
In  dreams — 

"Now,  Aunt  Ellen,  go  on." 

"Yassum,  but  I'm  bleeg'd  ter  tell  yer  de 
kitchen  b'iler's  leakin'." 

"Oh,  for  pity's  sake!"  I  started  for  the 
kitchen,  then  remembered :  "Go  tell  the  man 
working  on  the  furnace  to  fix  it, — and  re- 

325 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

member,  no  dress  for  you  if  you  keep  in 
terrupting  me."  Once  more  to  the  fire  I 
turned,  trying  to  conjure  back  the  nursery, 
bedtime,  Mammy,  or  anything.  I  bit  my 
pencil  and  read  once  more : 

In  dreams  I  see  thee  bending  o'er  me, 
To  the  old  plantation  home  we  rove, 
Where— 

"Miss  Sa',  dat  man  say  he  ain'  got  nuthin' 
ter  do  wid  kitch'n  fixin's. — He  say  he's 
er  furniss  man.  An'  Tom  done  cut  de  wat'r 
off,  an'  I  can't  git  dinn'r  tell  de  plumb' r 
come." 

A  prolonged  telephonic  agony  ensued  with 
the  plumber,  which  entirely  dispelled  the 
charm  I  had  half  invoked.  On  the  way 
back  to  the  library,  I  heard  Tom  at  the 
front  door:  "Yassum,  dat's  her,  but  she's 
pow'ful  busy  ter  day."  The  next  moment 

326 


AN  AFTERWORD 

Tom's  tall  figure  appeared  at  the  library 
door,  and  over  his  shoulder  peered  the  taller 
one  of  a  woman  whose  masculine  features 
were  shaded  by  a  hat  of  garish  variety. 

"I  simply  could  not  pass  without  recall 
ing  myself  to  you,  and  getting  one  more 
peep,"  exclaimed  my  visitor  as  she  brushed 
past  Tom,  "into  this  old-fashioned  library 
with  shelves  up  to  the  ceiling." 

"Will  you  have  this  seat?"  I  murmured, 
trying  to  recall  a  previous  meeting. 

"Oh,  no,  I'll  just  sit  in  this  seat  in  the 


corner." 


This  she  did,  upsetting  pencil  and  paper 
on  the  table  near-by.  Both  of  us  reached 
over, — I  to  rescue  my  lines,  she  to  raise  her 
skirt,  from  the  narrow  confines  of  which 
also  she  drew  forth  a  book  of  dimensions 
that  I  hesitate  to  specify. 

327 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

"I  have  here  some  literature,"  she  drew 
forth  yards  of  pasteboard  arranged  in 
economic  design,  "that  I — " 

"Madam,"  I  raised  a  hand  in  protest, 
"let  these  over-crowded  shelves  be  my  an 
swer,"  my  mind  the  while  dipping  again 
into  the  past  where  Mammy  Phyllis  seemed 
to  whisper:  "Bett'r  look  out,  dat's  Cap'n 
Yall'r  Jackit's  ole  lady  youse  foolin'  wid." 
Thus,  while  my  visitor  rehearsed  the  merits 
of  "The  American  People  in  Literature  and 
Art,"  and  differentiated  between  book 
agents  and  traveling  educators,  I  listened  to 
Mammy  telling  about  Cap'n  Hornet  and 
Cap'n  Yall'r  Jackit  and  Mist'r  Grab-All 
Spider,  until  finally  Mammy  and  I  sat  to 
gether  out  under  the  old  cherry  tree  and 
watched  their  famous  battle. 

"Being  a  traveling  educator,  may  I  see 

328 


AN  AFTERWORD 

what  books  these  shelves  are  lined  with?" 

"Certainly,"  I  subconsciously  assented, 
while  the  muse  ran : 

Thy  hand  my  toddling  steps  did  guide, 
Thy  soft  voice  crooned  to  gentle  sleep  — 

no;  that  will  not  do: 

Thy  wisdom  oft  my — ' 

"Why  on  earth  did  you  not  tell  me  you 
had  the  books  and  save  me  this  time  and 
effort*?"  burst  furiously  from  the  far  end  of 
the  room,  putting  to  blush  even  Cap'n  Yall'r 
Jackit's  old  Lady,  "But  you  did  not  know  it 
— did  not  know  that  such  books  as  these 
existed,  much  less  in  your  own  library." 

All  the  while  she  was  nervously  repacking 
the  wonderful  hidden  pocket. 

"I  bid  you  good  morning,"  now  perfectly 
attired  for  another  social  call,  "and  ask  you 

329 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

to  pardon  my  emotion  when  I  see  such  a 
library  in  the  possession  of  a  woman  who 
does  not  know  even  the  titles  of  her  own 
books !  I  have  heard  of  such  ignorance,  but 
never  believed  it  until  now!" 

"Good-bye,  Miss  Yall'r  Jackit,"  I  felt, 
and  back  in  the  chimney  corner  I  dropped  to 
dream  again  with  the  publishers'  wire  com 
manding  me  from  the  mantel-piece. 

In  dreams  again  thy  hand  doth  guide 
Through  meadow  land  where  kine  doth — 

Tom  so  softly  entered  that  his  presence 
was  unknown  until  he  apologized:  "De 
Bank  Man  say  please  ter  step  ter  de  teler- 
fome." 

"Hello!    Well?5 

"Did  you  get  the  notice  of  your  over 
draft  yesterday?" 

"Indeed  I  did,  and  I  was  going  to  see  you 
330 


AN  AFTERWORD 

about  it  this  morning  and  tell  vou  there  was 
some  mistake." 

"In  what  way?"  chillingly  interrogated 
this  voice  of  superior  business  intelligence. 

"You  have  me  overdrawn  ten  dollars 
when  I  know  I  have  twenty  dollars  and 
thirty-five  cents  to  my  account." 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  he  loftily  and  pityingly 
apologized,  "but  our  books,  according  to 
your  checks,  show  an  overdraft." 

"Well,"  I  sighed,  perfectly  sure  I  was 
right  and  perfectly  sure  he  would  convince 
me  I  was  not,  "I  cannot  attend  to  it  to-day. 
Just  let  it  stand  until  I  come  down  town.  I 
am  very  busy  to-day." 

Oh!  for  an  uninterrupted  moment! — 
What  so  simple  as  lines  to  write,  if  only  one 
has  the  time. 

I  found  a  stingy  blaze  struggling  up  the 

331 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

chimney:  "Do,  Tom,  run  get  some  kin 
dling  and  chips  quick." 

"Kin  yer  wait,  Miss  Sa',  tell  I  gits  thu  set- 
tin'  de  table  ?  Hit's  near  'bout  dinn'r  time." 

Alas !  even  as  he  spoke  the  family  began  to 
assemble,  and  the  library  quietly  and  natu 
rally  changed  into  a  family  gathering  room, 
where  real  people  crowded  out  the  dreams  in 
a  mother's  mind. 

At  length  the  meal  ended,  the  house 
cleared,  once  more  I  turned  to  the  lines.  A 
seat  was  chosen  by  the  window  this  time,  in 
hopes  that  a  view  of  the  mountains  would 
call  up  the  spirits  of  Mist'r  Bad  Simmon 
Tree,  Miss  Wile  Grape,  de  Reed  gals3  and 
their  forest  companions. 

Thou  lessons  teaches!  through  tree  and  vine 
A  crooked  twig's  to  thee  a  sign 
For  moral  lect — 

332 


AN  AFTERWORD 

In  the  dim  perspective  of  the  street  a  fly 
ing  object  arrested  my  thoughts.  An  in 
stant  more  and  it  developed  into  one  of  my 
hopefuls  tearing  like  mad  on  a  four-year-old 
colt,  without  saddle  or  bridle.  "Help! 
Catch  him!"  I  cried,  as  I  threw  up  the  win 
dow  sash.  Passers-by  rushed  to  the  rescue 
as  the  colt  took  the  hedge,  crossed  the  lawn, 
and  halted  under  the  window  without  a 
quiver. 

"Mama!  just  look  at  these  people!  Send 
them  away — the  colt  is  as  gentle  as  a  cat." 

Echoes  of  Wild  West,  Buffalo  Bill,  came 
from  the  dispersing  crowd,  while  the  boy 
grumbled:  "A  bridle  and  saddle  don't  do 
a  thing  but  make  a  'Sissy'  out  of  a  boy." 

The  mountain  view  resigned  in  favor  of 
the  chimney  corner,  where  with  limbs  still 
trembling  I  sank  almost  resigned  to  give  up 

333 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

the  lines.  Prose  was  easy  enough  to  write, 
even  with  interruptions,  but  poetry,  where 
one  must  dream  and  drift  into  the  spirit  of 
the  thought, — this,  alas,  was  not  the  calling 
of  a  busy  mother  of  six,  at  least  not  of  this 
busy  mother. 

"Miss  Sa',"  Tom  appeared  bearing  a  cup 
of  hot  milk,  "An'  Ellen  say  drink  dis  an' 
hit'll  set  yer  up  ergin,  den  whin  I  gits  dis 
fier  ter  blazin' 3 '  (he  piled  the  logs  higher) , 
fcyer'll  write  dem  poetries  'fo'  yer  knows 
hit." 

Even  as  he  swept  the  ashes  from  the 
hearth,  "send  at  once"  spurred  my  flagging 
mood  to  one  more  effort.  Yes,  once  more 
Fll  try!  Let  me  see. — I  rubbed  my  brow 
and  tugged  at  the  hair  about  my  temples — 
Let's  see — 

"Miss  Sa',"  he  sheepishly  turned,  "I  aint 

334 


AN  AFTERWORD 

tole  yer,  dey  telerfome  fum  de  office  com- 
p'ny  wus  comin'  ter  supp'r — yas,  mam — two 
gent'muns." 

"Tell  Aunt  Ellen  to  order  some  shad  to 
go  with  whatever  else  she  has,  and  please. 
p-1-e-a-s-e  do  not  let  the  King  of  England 
open  that  door  again.'* 

The  flames  licked  up  the  chimney,  the  oak 
logs  popped  and  crackled,  and  insisted  they 
were  singing  the  same  tunes  they  sang  in 
the  nursery  of  old,  when  I  gazed  at  them 
through  the  tall  brass  fender  and  listened  to 
Mist'r  Hickory  Log  and  Mist'r  Wise  Oak 
telling  Mammy  all  about  their  kinsfolk  and 
friends.  And  as  the  wind  whistled  drear 
ily  around  the  north  corners  of  the  house,  I 
seemed  to  hear  Mist'r  Tall  Pine's  lonely 
wail  echoing  the  cries  of  "hants"  and  spirits 
in  search  of  rest  from  unholy  graves.  In- 

335 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

stinctively,  I  cuddled  to  Mammy,  who  took 
me  by  the  hand,  and  led  me  into  the  sum 
mer  sunlight,  down  the  narrow  honeysuckle 
lane,  where  Miss  Queen  Bee  and  Cap'n  Hor- 
nit  and  Cap'n  Yall'r  Jackit  droned  lazily 
among  the  heavy  blossoms,  keeping  rhythm 
to  the  low  hum  of  Mammy's  voice.  Then, 
somehow,  the  pencil  began  of  its  own  accord 
to  move  across  the  paper. 

TO  MAMMY 

Thy  beaming  face  woos  me  afresh  to-night, 

My  eyelids  droop,  for  with  thy  plaintive  song 

Old  times  drift  back  and  tender  memories  throng 

With  fable-tales.     I  fondly  crave  the  sight 

Of  wood  and  lane  and  towering  mountain  height, 

With  thee  as  guide.     I  hear  once  more  among 

The  distant  hills  thy  thrilling  voice  prolong 

The  lore  of  beasts,  of  birds,  and  glowworm's  light. 

Their  secrets  now  are  locked  from  anxious  man, 

And  none,  since  mute  thy  tongue  must  ever  be, 

Can  link  our  child-days  with  their  mystery : 

336 


AN  AFTERWORD 

For  thou  hast  passed  beyond  the  mountain  span 
With  faith  unfaltering  in  thy  Maker's  plan, 
And  left  to  us  thy  vibrant  memory. 

— and   Mammy  led  me   past  honeysuckle 
lane,  through  field  and  grove  to  pasture- 
land,  where  old  Sis  Nanny  Goat  lies  in  a 
corner  of  the  fence  moaning  and  groaning: 
Sis  Wile  Lucy  Goose  fly  down  an'  ax: 
"Whut  ail  yo'  haid,  Sis  Nanny  Goat?' 
Sis  Nanny  Goat  'spon/  she  do:     "I  bin 
tryin'  ter  git  out'n  dis  heah  ole  pastur',  ov'r 
yond'r  in  Mist'r  Man's  ole  lady's  flower 
gyard'n,"  sez  she,  "but  dat  ole  wall  so  hard 
I  done  wase  m'time,  an'  I  ain'  got  nuthin' 
ter  show  fur  hit  but  dese  heah  bumps  on 
m'haid." 

Sis  Wile  Lucy  Goose  say,  sez  she :  "Law, 
Sis  Nann  Goat,  ain'  you  got  no  mo'  sense 
dan  ter  try  ter  projick  wid  Mist'r  Man's 

337 


BYPATHS  IN  DIXIE 

doin's4?  All  yer  got  ter  do  is  ter  flop  yer 
wings  an'  give  er  hop,  an'  dar  yer  is,  ov'r  de 
fence  mongst  de  flow'rs." 

"But  I  ain'  got  no  wings  ter  flop  wid," 
spon  Sis  Nanny  Goat. 

"Dar  now,"  sez  Sis  Wile  Lucy  Goose, 
"den  you  got  ter  keep  on  eatin'  dis  same  ole 
grass  tell  you  sprouts  somethin'  nuther  ter 
fly  wid." 

I  reached  out  for  a  firmer  clasp  on  Mam 
my's  hand,  now  slipping  from  me,  when 
kindly  sleep,  with  its  visions,  forsook  me 
and  left  me  only  the  picture  of  the  impotent 
bumps  on  Sis  Nanny  Goat's  head.  But  I 
seemed  to  catch  the  faint  echo  of  Mammy's 
voice  saying:  "Hit  taint  time  you  orter  be 
cryin'  fer,  hit's  sense." 

THE    END 

338 


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266121 
Cocke 
Bypaths 


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